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Kidnapped 

OR 

Secrets  of  a  Great  Mystery. 

Truth  is  stranger  than  fiction  J' 

BY 

A.  STEWART  MANLY. 

Copiously  Illustrated  by  H»  S»  DeLay* 

<• 

CHICAGO:  RHODES  &  McCI^URB  PUB.  CO.,  1907 

INDEX. 


CHAPTER  I. 

AT  UNCLE  NED*S. 

The  man  with  the  motley  gray  eyes.  A  midnight  wedding.  A 
tour  from  which  the  bride  never  returns  17-25 

CHAPTER  IL 

THE  LITTLE  STRANGER. 

Mysterious  strangers.  Suspicious  whisperings.  The  man's 
eourage  fails,  and  the  scheme  falls  through  for  the  present.  A 
child  behind  the  curtains  of  the  old-fashioned  bed.  A  link  of  love 
is  formed  that  lasts  through  life  26-36 

CHAPTER  III. 

MRS.  CLARE. 

A  child  in  her  dying  mother's  arms.  Strange  revelations.  Ves- 
per bells  ring  out  on  the  clear  night  air.  A  funeral  dirge  and 
marriage  bells  37-44 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  OLD  BROKEN  HOUSE. 

Accidental  meeting.  A  funeral.  A  sick  child.  A  jealous  boy. 
A  cruel  landlord.  A  pauper  funeral  d5-59 


viii 


INDEX. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SNOW  STORM. 

A  visit  from  country  friends.  Jonathan  Geddiz  and  Aunt 
'Mandy.  Feigned  illness.  Strange  and  mutual  love  between 
Minnie  Merrill  and  Nellie  Clare,  the  orphan  child  60-72 

CHAPTER  Vr. 

FANNIE  AS  NURSE. 

Efforts  at  reconciliation.  Dr.  Bein*s  generosity.  The  storm 
rages  in  wild  fury  73-84 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  AWAKENING. 

A  visit  to  Stewart's  store.  Shaking  hands  with  the  man  in  the 
mirror.  Aunt  'Mandy  follows  Mrs.  Baldwin  to  the  velvet  depart- 
ment. The  elevator  goes  up.   A  new  life-work  begins  85-99 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

BRIGTHENING  PROSPECTS. 

The  gude  wife's  counsel  and  gifts.  Nellie  convalescing.  Jane 
Coil  solicited  as  nurse  and  companion  for  Mrs.  Bein  100-109 

CHAPTER  IX. 

SCENES  AT  THE  BALDWIN  HOUSE. 

Aunt  'Mandy  as  general  superiutendant.  Two  invalids.  A 
stampede  of  feet  on  the  back  stairs.  Eavesdropping.  A  doctor's 
plans  frustrated.    Aunt  'Mandy  victorious  110-125 

CHAPTER  X. 

THE  NEW  HOME. 

Aunt  ^Mandy  investigates  and  discharges  the  servants.  McClel- 
lan  visits  and  reports  to  Mrs.  Baldwin.  An  intercepted  letter.  A 
frantic  woman.  Jane  Coil  and  Nellie  Clare  at  Dr.  Bein's.  Minnie 
is  convalescing  126-138 

CHAPTER  XI. 

SEARCHING. 

Minnie's  fruitless  search  for  Nellie  at  the  "  Old  Broken  House." 


INDEX.  IX 

McClellan  also  has  as  fruitleps  a  search  for  the  same  child.  Vile 
slandering  by  Miss  Duncan  139-167 

CHAPTER  XII. 

FITFUL  MOODS. 

•A  forged  telegraph  dispatch  Longings  for  a  wise  counselor. 
Little  Jonathan  builds  a  snow  man  instead  of  dying.  Mrs.  Bald- 
win's deceptive  nature  crops  out.  Words  of  warning.  Minnie  is 
in  her  power  158-170 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

PLOTTINGS. 

The  dying  woman's  secret  not  revealed.  A  pleasant  ride.  False 
alarm.  Mrs.  Baldwin's  fit  of  hysteria.  A  lonely  day  for  Minnie 
MerrUl  171-183 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

KIDNAPED. 

A  falsehood  acted.  Misdirected.  Nellie  gone.  Wild  excite- 
ment. The  search,  mystery  finally  solved.  The  three  ambrotypes. 
Uncle  Ned  perplexed  184-203 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE  BEAUTIFUL  MANIAC  AT  LONG  BRANCH. 

A  game  of  croquet.  Anxious  matters.  Curiosity  on  tip-toe. 
Minnie  exasperated.   Uncle  Ned*s  eyes  opening.   Scandal  ripe. 

204-216 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

PREDICTION  VERIFIED. 

Poison  in  the  wine-glass.  A  night  of  intense  excitement.  Uncle 
Ned  found  dead.  A  beautiful  sight  in  the  death  chamber.  A  let- 
ter found.   Nellie  found  a  grave  in  Paris  217-226 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  NIGHT  CHASE. 

Aunt  'Mandy  acts  as  detective.  An  exciting  drive.  A  serious 
accident  befalls  Jonathan  Geddiz.  Aunt  'Mandy's  devotion  and 
regrets   227-243 


z 


INDEX. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  NEW  NEIGHBOR. 

The  adopted  child.  A  Missionary  Sewing  society  with  gossip 
on  the  wing:.  Mrs.  Geddiz  plans  to  have  the  next  meeting  and 
reveal  a  mystery.   A  treacherous  neighbor.   A  flight  in  the  night. 

244-259 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  QUIET  WEDDING. 

No  school  boys^  love.  Miss  Caruthers,  of  the  old  tenement 
house,  makes  strange  revelations.  Tommie  adopted  by  Dr.  Bein. 
A  young  lawyer.  Gone  into  the  army.  Disloyal  utterances.  ,  A 
new  name  that  brings  a  fortune  260-272 

CHAPTER  XX. 

AN  UNEXPECTED  GUEST  A*  BROADTOP. 

Brazen  impudence.  Retribution.  Aunt 'Mandy  forgives.  Death 
of  Christine  Baldwin.   Was  the  full  penalty  paid  ?.  273-283 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  LITTLE  WANDERER. 

A  long  and  weary  some  journey.  The  good  Samaritan.  A 
home  at  last.  Millie,  the  blind  girl  of  Cleveland.  Perfect  peace 
 284-296 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

NEW  TRIALS. 

A  journey  to  the  sunny  south.  A  funeral  at  Mt.  Auburn.  The 
sad  brown  eyes.  A  new  link  in  love's  chain.  The  two  coflSns 
brought  back  to  Cleveland  297-310 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

AT  OAK  GROVE. 

Days  of  anxiety.  A  will  is  made.  Minnie  married  by  Millie's 
death-bed.   What  visitors  at  Oakland  cemetery  saw  in  those  days. 

311-317 


INDEX. 


xi 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

DESERTED. 

Little  Mildred.  A  guest  enteitained.  Mysterious  footsteps. 
Slander  gathering  a  golden  harvest.  Going  back  to  the  old  farm 
in  B  .   Frantic  grief  318-326 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

WITH  THE  WOUNDED. 

The  old  church  hospital  at  Burksville.  Captain  Ford  wounded. 
The  dying  bless  the  sweet  songster.  The  old  man's  confession.  A 
letter  written.   The  brown-eyed  soldier.   The  cluster  of  rose-buds. 

327-339 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  ILL-FATED  PEW  ABIC. 

A  happy  company.  A  mysterious  meeting.  A  beautiful  sun- 
set. A  wreck  on  Lake  Huron.  A  night  of  wild  terror.  A  heroic 
woman.   Songs  of  the  dying.   Sweet  exhibitions  of  faith  in  God. 

340-352 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  UNEXPECTED  VOYAGE. 

A  pleasant  journey  with  a  sad  ending.  Grand  fete  given  the 
Vice  Roy  of  Egypt.  Hampton  Court  palace.  The  unsolved  prob- 
lem.  Deep  grief  353-360 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

IN  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

The  hopes  of  years  crumble  to  ashes  at  her  feet.  New  resolves. 
New  friends.  The  old  dying  soldier's  confession  revived  in  mem-, 
ory.  Brooding  over  a  strange  eventful  life.  A  change  of  scene 
and  rest  is  prescribed.   A  heart  that  is  a  sealed  book  361-372 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

MINERAL  PARK. 

A  trip  to  Arizona.  Highway  robbery.  Skulking  Indians.  Charlie, 
the  China  boy.  Court  in  session.  Banquet  and  ball  in  honor  of 
newly  elected  judge.  A  brilliant  company.  The  little  white 
coffin.    Visits  of  mercy  373-387 


xii 


INDEX. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

AUNT  'MANDY's  tour. 

Salt  Lake  City.  Brigham  Young  lying  in  state.  Aunc  'Mandy 
thinks  she  recognizes  one  of  the  Mrs.  Youngs.  At  San  Francisco. 
The  stolen  child  the  favx)rite  theme  of  conversation.  A  talk  on 
scriptural  texts.   A  pleasant  hour   388-409 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

PEWABIC  KEMINISCENCES. 

A  winter  spent  at  Phoenix  City.  Pleasant  drives.  A  sorrowful 
history  given.  Engaged  in  marriage.  Return  to  San  Francisco. 
Dr.  and  Mrs.  Bein  guests  at  the  cottage.   A  surprise  in  store. 

410-421 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THANKSGIVING. 

Successful  surprise.  The  cherished  little  yields  up  its  sec  ret  in 
strange  revelations.  Great  joy.  Re-united  at  last.  The  "  some- 
time" has  come  at  last.   A  happy  home.   The  dove  finds  rest. 

422-428 


CHAPTEE  I. 


AT  "UNCLE  NEd's." 

The  sun  was  under  a  cloud,  the  wind  was  lulled  to 
rest,  and  the  light,  fleecy  snow  was  falling  gently  upon 
the  ice-crusted  streets  of  New  York  City,  imprinting 
and  kissing  lightly,  and  then  melting  away  upon  many 
a  fair  cheek,  but  on  none  more  fair  and  rosy  than  that 
of  the  one  who  said  : 

"  Yes,  this  is  the  place.  I  remember  it  well."  It 
was  a  sweet  girlish  voice,  half  speaking  to  herself  and 
half  to  the  driver  of  a  close  carriage,  as  he  opened  the 
door  to  assist  her  in  alighting  in  front  of  Ned  Baldwin's 
stately  brown-stone  residence  on  Fifth  Avenue,  New 
York  City. 

"Oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you,  Cousin  Minnie,''  said 
Nellie  Baldwin,  rushing  forward  as  the  servant  opened 
the  door  and  let  her  in,  and  throwing  her  arms  about 
her  neck,  embraced  her  warmly.  "  Come  right  into 
mamma's  room,  for  the  other  room^  are  all  topsy-turvy, 
undergoing  a  thorough  renovation.  I  was  so  afraid  you 
wouldn't  get  here,  and  you  know  I  have  had  my  heart 
set  on  your  being  my  first  bridesmaid,  and  never  could 
have  survived  the  disappointment.    Did  you  get  my 

17  2 


18 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


last  letter,  or  rather  my  note  ?  I  had  no  time  for  long 
letters  after  we  set  the  day." 

"  Yes,"  said  Minnie,  "  I  got  one  the  day  before  I 
started,  dated  December  twenty-third." 

"That  was  it/'  said  Nellie,  "and  you  started  the 
next  day? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Minnie,  laughing,  "  and  it  was  a  whirl- 
ing time.  For  all  I  had  been  holding  myself  in  readines 
for  the  summons  for  some  time,  it  came  sudden  at  last. 
You  know  I  had  to  go  some  distance  to  the  Cincinnati 
depot  to  take  the  morning  train.  But  here  I  am,  and 
plenty  of  time  to  rest." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  Mrs.  Baldwin's  room 
and  Nellie,  in  her  happiest  voice,  called  out: 

"  O,  Mamma,  here  is  Cousin  Minnie." 

Mrs.  Baldwin  was  reclining  on  a  sofa,  apparently 
asleep,  but  on  being  aroused  to  consciousness  by  her 
daughter's  excited  tones,  arose  and  came  languidly  for- 
ward. 

"Oh,  Aunty,  are  you  sick?"  said  Minnie,  to  which 
Mrs.  Baldwin's  reply  was  after  her  manner  of  answer- 
ing questions  of  that  kind,  evading  it  if  possible. 

"Oh,  Minnie,  is  this  you?  I  really  was  in  hopes 
you  would  not  come  before  to-morrow,  as  everything 
is  stirred  up  from  garret  to  cellar,  and  I  do  not  know 
where  we  can  put  you." 

"Withdrawing  her  hand,  which  she  had  placed  lang- 
uidly in  Minnie's  warm  grasp,  she  drew  together  the 
heavily-quilted  silk  fronts  of  her  easy  dress,  and  step- 
ping to  the  door,  said,  "just  w^ait  a  moment,  Mc- 
Clellan." 

The  man  spoken  to  put  his  hands  down  deep  into 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


19 


his  pants  pockets,  and  rolling  his  quid  of  tobacco 
around  in  his  mouth,  sauntered  up  to  the  door,  and  as  he 
stood  glaring  in  upon  the  trio,  as  they  conferred  together 
in  regard  to  the  temporary  disposal  of  Minnie  and  her 
baggage,  made  the  unfavorable  impression  upon  Min- 
nie's mind  of  which  we  find  a  pen  picture  in  a  memo- 
randum, kept  during  her  stay  in  the  city. 

"  The  most  disgusting  sight  I  ever  beheld  was  that 
•man,  tall,  round-shouldered,  hat  set  jauntily  on  the 
side  of  his  head,  one  leg  of  his  brown  pants  tucked  in 
the  top  of  his  coarse,  unblacked  boots,  long,  faded 
brown  chin-whiskers,  a  pair  of  motley  gray  eyes  looking 
out  from  under  long,  shaggy  brows." 

"  Why,  Mamma,"  said  Nellie,  I  thought  you  had 
decided  to  put  her  in  Grandma's  room,  if  she  came 
before  we  were  settled.  I'm  sure  its  quite  comfortable 
and  pleasant  there.  Janet  lighted  the  fire  full  two 
hours  ago,  and  I  looked  in  a  few  moments  since, 
and  found  it  quite  cheery." 

"Well  then,  McClellan,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  address- 
ing the  man,  "  you  can  take  the  things  there  for  the 
present.  You  know  where  it  is,  at  the  right-hand  side 
of  the  rear  end  of  the  hall,  on  the  third  floor." 

After  taking  a  survey  of  the  baggage,  he  took  up  one 
of  the  trunks  and  marched  away  whistling  "Yankee 
Doodle." 

His  whole  appearance  and  conduct  was  so  at  vari- 
ance with  that  of  her  aunt's  usually  well-trained  ser- 
vants, that  she  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  his  presence 
in  that  capacity. 

The  two  girls  followed  soon  afterwards,  meeting  him 
at  the  first  landing,  as  he  was  returning  for  the  second 


20  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

installment  of  ''luggage,"  as  he  said.  At  this  re- 
mark, Minnie  involuntary  glanced  up,  meeting  the 
impudent  gaze  of  those  motley  gray  eyes,  which  sent 
through  her  a  shivering  sensation,  just  such  a  sensation 
as  one  feels  when  coming  suddenly  upon  some  loath- 
some reptile;  and  from  that  moment  she  had  an  unde- 
fined feeling  of  fear — a  dread  of  meeting  him,  which 
she  tried  to  banish,  thinking  him  one  of  the  trusty  ser- 
vants of  her  Uncle's  establishment,  consequently,  must 
be  all  right.  As  they  walked  through  the  long  hall, 
with  arms  entwined  lovingly  around  each  other,  Nellie 
told  her  of  the  great  preparations  being  made  for  her 
wedding,  which,  she  said,  would  ''come  off"  in  just  two 
days. 

"And  what  do  you  think?"  she  continued,  "Papa 
says  I  must  be  married  at  midnight  just  as  the  new 
year  is  coming  in,  and  Mamma  and  I  have  concluded  to 
humor  him  in  this  singular  whim.  You  know  he  never  did 
want  anything  like  other  folks ;  besides  that  I  think  it  will 
be  quite  romantic,  don't  you?  All  the  elite  of  the  city  are 
to  be  here,  and  they  are  going  to  dance  up  to  the  wed- 
ding hour.  Oh,  Minnie,  I  am  just  dying  to  know 
what  you  are  going  to  \vear." 

And  without  waiting  to  hear  what  she  had  just 
declared  she  was  "  dying  to  hear,"  rattled  away  in  her 
happy,  excited  way: 

"  I  am  to  wear  white  satin  with  real  lace  and  orange 
blossoms,  and  oh !  Mr.  O  f  erton  has  given  me  such  lovely 
diamonds,  and  Mamma  wishes  me  to  wear  them.  My  en- 
tire outfit  is  magnificent.  But  what  is  your  dress  for 
the  occasion?" 

Minnie  answered  in  her  usual  calm  way,  "  I  shall  be 


r 

A  STOKY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  21 

very  near  your  counterpart;  too  near,  I  am  afraid,  to 
have  the  contrast  whicli  makes  the  bride  the  prominent 
personage  she  should  be  on  such  occasions;  but  then  I 
shall  trim  with  either  blue  or  pink;  could  not  decide 
until  I  learned  which  your  second  bridesmaid  preferred, 
so  that  we  would  not  be  alike.'' 

"Oh,"  said  Nellie,  "she  has  blue;  she  looks  splendid 
in  that,  but  horrid  in  any  other  color." 

By  this  time  they  were  standing  in  the  middle  of 
Grandma's  room,  Nellie  assisting  her  cousin  in  dispos- 
ing of  her  wraps  and  kissing  her  over  and  over  again  in 
the  ecstacy  of  her  girlish  delight,  when,  suddenly  glanc- 
ing up  at  the  tall  wooden  clock  in  the  corner,  slie  was 
reminded  of  an  engagement,  and  asked  to  be  excused, 
saying  :  "  I  have  an  engagement  at  Madam  Griswold's, 
my  dressmaker,  in  just  thirty  minutes.  I  will  tell 
Janet  to  bring  lunch  to  your  room  and  you  can  rest, 
as  you  must  be  w^eary  after  so  long  a  trip.  Our  dinner 
hour  is  six  o'clock.  1  shall  be  back  in  time,  so  be  happy 
and  rest  all  you  can  while  I  am  away,  for  I  assure  you 
it  will  be  but  little  rest  you  will  get  when  I  am  around, 
for  I  expect  to  talk  you  almost  blind." 

Just  then  the  man  entered  with  the  remainder  of 
Minnie's  baggage,  and,  looking  at  her  with  a  sickly 
grin,  said: 

"  I  guess  from  the  amount  of  luggage,  somebody 
intends  to  fill  Nelly's  place  for  awhile,  at  table  at  least;" 
and  with  an  extra  grin  at  his  own  remark,  which  he 
evidently  thought  quite  shrewd,  he  shrugged  his 
hump't  shoulders  and  made  his  exit  from  the  room. 

"Who  is  that  man,  Cousin?"  said  Minnie.    "Is  he 


22 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


a  servant?  if  he  is,  he  is  by  far  too  familiar,  I  think. 
Do  you  not? " 

"  He  is  not  a  servant,"  said  Nellie,  in  a  vexed  tone, 
^'and  yet  he  is  too,  in  one  sense  of  the  word.  1 
really  don't  know  what  lie  is  more  than  an  impu- 
dent old  man;  his  sister  and  her  husband  are  ten- 
ants on  papa's  farm,  and  he  lives  with  them.  You  know 
papa  has  two  farms,  one  is  Mamma's  and  the  other  is 
Grandpa  Baldwin's,  and  when  he  died  he  left  it  in  Papa's 
care,  and  the  two  men  have  charge  of  both,  as  they  join, 
and  this  man  brings  in  our  vegetables  and  fruit,  and 
when  we  need  any  extra  help  mamma  gets  him  to  come. 
He  did  something  once  that  he  was  sent  to  prison  for, 
and  while  he  was  there  his  wife  got  married  to  some  one 
who  took  her  West.  I  always  dread  to  have  him  around, 
but  then  he  does  just  whatever  Mamma  wants  him  to, 
and  she  seems  to  like  him  and  talks  a  great  deal  to  him 
lately;  perhaps  she  thinks  she  can  make  a  better  man 
of  him.  I  hope  she  can,  for  Papa  says  he  has  been  an 
awful  bad  man,  but  he  says  he  thinks  he  is  all  right 
now,  at  least  you  need  not  be  afraid" of  him,  he  wouldn't 
dare  harm  you."  So  saying,  she  kissed  her  again,  and 
went  laughingly  out  of  the  room.  As  she  went  trip- 
ping down  one  flight  of  stairs  after  the  other  Minnie 
heard  her  sweet,  clear  voice  warbling  a  happy  song. 
The  sound  w^as  soon  lost  in  the  distance,  and  Minnie 
was  alone — alone  in  Grandma's  room.  She  had  been 
there  five  years  before,  then  Grandma  was  there;  now 
she  is  sleeping  out  in  Greenwood,  and  save  for  her 
presence,  she  could  see  no  change.  The  old-fashioned 
high-post  bedstead,  with  its  great  figured  calico  cur- 
tains edged  with  white  netting.    The  little,  low  stand 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


23 


with  its  white  cloth  finished  with  the  same  trimming, 
upon  which  lay  the  old  family  Bible,  and  thumb-worn 
hymn  book.  The  tall  brass  candlestick  with  its  candle 
burned  low.  The  snuflfers,  bright  as  of  yore,  lay  in  the 
glittering  tray.  The  old  clock  in  the  corner,  the  two 
plaster-paris  vases  of  bright  colored  fruit,  on  either  end 
of  the  mantle,  with  two  green  parrots  of  the  same 
material,  and  various  other  small  ornaments.  The  rag 
carpet,  the  split-bottomed  rocking-chair,  the  tall 
bureau  with  its  glass  knobs,  and  the  lounge  with  soft 
feather  cushions,  covered  with  the  same  gray  figured 
calico  as  the  bed  curtains.  How  comfortable  and  old- 
fashioned  it  looked,  and  Minnie  seemed  to  hear  Grandma 
say  again  as  she  had  heard  her  years  ago:  "  It  is  just 
as  I  had  it  out  on  the  farm  for  years,  and  your  Uncle 
Ned  said  if  I  would  feel  more  at  home  with  it  here  1 
might  bring  it  all  along,  and  after  it  was  here  and  put  in 
place,  he  said  he  rather  liked  it,  for  it  reminded  him 
of  the  old  days  at  home."  While  she  was  feasting  her 
eyes  on  those  dear  old  relics,  and  recalling  the  many 
happy  hours  spent  there,  Janet  came  in  with  a  tempt- 
ing little  lunch,  saying  as  she  deposited  it  upon  a  chair 
near  Minnie: 

"  Please,  ma'am,  when  you  are  through,  you  will  put 
the  tray  on  the  stand  in  the  hall,  so  I  need  not  disturb 
you  again.  Miss  Nellie  says  you  are  weary  and  would 
like  to  rest." 

Minnie  remembered  Janet  as  one  of  the  trusty  ser- 
vants of  her  uncle's  household  whose  good  traits  she 
had  learned  to  appreciate  during  her  former  visits,  and 
being  recognized  by  Minnie,  was  well  pleased,  and 


24  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

from  that  hour  would  have  made  any  sacrifice  to  render 
her  service. 

Minnie  was  aroused  from  a  refreshing  sleep  by  the 
simultaneous  ringing  of  the  dinner  bell  and  Nellie's 
kiss  upon  her  cheek.  On  their  way  through  the  wide, 
deep  hall  to  the  dining  room,  they  were  met  by  Uncle 
Ned,  wlio  was  just  coming  from  his  library,  and  evi- 
dently iiad  not  heard  of  the  arrival  of  his  neice.  At 
first  glance  he  did  not  seem  to  recognize  her,  but 
suddenJy  a  bright  smile  lit  up  his  genial  face,  and  he 
came hiirriedly  forward,  clapping  and  rubbing  his  hands 
together*  and  exclaiming: 

"Well,  well;  if  here  isn't  a  little  chick  that  I  am 
very  glad  to  see." 

And  drawing  her  close  up  to  his  great,  warm  heart, 
kissed  her  over  and  ov-er  again,  asking  questions  and 
not  waiting  for  an  answer,  quite  as  rapidly  and  girlish  as 
Nellie  had  done  a  few  hours  previous.  But  his  were  of  a 
different  nature,  he  asking  all  manner  of  questions 
about  the  folks  at  home,  especially  "  Pet,"  as  he  termed 
Minnie's  mother,  a  name  he  had  given  her  when  a 
child,  and  he  not  only  continued  the  name,  but  the 
same  brotherly  fondness  for  her  who  ranged  next 
younger     years  to  himself. 

The  dinner  hour  passed  pleasantly  away,  the  conver- 
sation being  kept  up  principally  by  Minnie  and  Uncle 
Ned,  as  Mr.  Baldwin  was  familarly  called  by  a  large 
circle  of  friends,  on  account  of  his  free,  affectionate 
manners  with  all,  especially  the  younger  ones. 

As  they  left  the  dinner  table,  a  servant  handed  Nellie 
two  caros,  at  which  she  gave  a  hasty  glance,  and  turn- 
ing to  Minnie,  said,  in  a  mock,  airy  way: 


I  GUESS  FROM  THE  AMOUNt\)P  LUGGAGE,  SOMEBODY  INTENDS  TO 

FILL  Nellie's  place  for  a  while.*'   See  page  21. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


25 


"  Messrs.  Chandler  and  Overton  are  in  waiting  to  be 
presented  to  Miss  Merrill,  the  belle  of  Mt.  Auburn,  so 
we  will  go  right  in,  as  I  see  written  in  pencil  on  Mr. 
Overton's  card,  just  five  minutes  to  stay;  don't  keep  us 
waiting,  please." 

Mr.  Chandler,  as  Minnie  understood,  was  the  one 
selected  as  first  groomsman,  and  she  hesitated  about 
being  presented  to  him  for  the  first  time  in  her  dinner 
dress. 

"  Never  mind,  come  right  along,"  said  Nellie,  "  they 
know  the  hour,  and  it  is  only  because  it  is  the  only  conve- 
nient hour  for  Mr.  Chandler  to  come  that  they  are  here 
it  this  time,  and  if  he  doesn't  like  your  appearance," 
said  she,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eye,  he  can  just 
get  gick  and  be  excused  from  the  painful  ordeal  of  stand- 
ing by  your  side  and  playing  the  gallant  to-morrow 
night;  pretty  kettle  ot  fish  that  would  be,  wouldn't  it?" 
meantime  pushing  up  and  twirling  around  a  stray  curl 
of  Minnie's  chestnut  brown  hair,  saying:  ''Now,  drive 
aw^ay  that  weary  look  and  be  your  own  sweet  self,  and 
you  will  be  all  right.  Come  on  now;  forward,  march, 
all  ready,  going — going — gone,"  and  with  the  last  word 
spoken  in  an  undertone,  they  entered  the  room  with  a 
pleased  expression  lighting  up  their  fresh  young  faces. 
Happy,  guileless  hearts  were  theirs,  upon  which  the 
infant  hand  of  time  had  written  neither  sorrow  nor  pain, 
and  life's  morning  hours  were  tinged  with  the  bright 
golden  hues  of  promise.  Alas!  that  it  should  prove 
aught  else. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE   LITTLE  STRANGER. 

After  an  hour  spent  pleasantly,  if  one  may  judge  by 
the  length  of  the  '^just  five  minutes,"  Mr.  Chandler 
asked  to  be  excused,  as  with  him  it  was  "business 
before  pleasure."  Minnie  soon  followed  his  example, 
giving  as  her  excuse,  not  being  sufficiently  rested  to  be 
entertaining.  Sit  still,  Nellie,"  said  she,  as  she  was 
about  to  arise  to  accompany  her,  "  I  shall  have  no 
difficulty  in  finding  my  room."  And  with  a  good  night 
to  the  two  whose  lite  joy  was  nearing  its  zenith,  she 
tripped  lightly  up  the  long  winding  flights  of  stairs. 

The  halls  below  were  brilliantly  lighten,  while  in  the 
upper  ones  the  gas  was  turned  so  low  that  she  could 
not  tell  whether  it  was  a  man  or  woman  she  saw  glide 
from  her  door  into  the  one  opposite,  as  she  was  approach- 
ing. She  found  the  door  closed,  but  saw,  upon  entering 
the  room,  that  the  fire  had  lately  been  replenished,  the 
gas  lighted  but  turned  quite  low,  and  concluded  it  was 
the  servant  who  had  been  attending  to  that  work,  that 
she  had  seen  crossing  the  hall,  and  thought  no  more  of 
it.  Seating  herself  on  a  hassock,  in  front  of  the  grate, 
she  began  uncoiling  her  long,  rich  braids.  She  had 
on  entering  left  her  door  slightly  ajar — leaving  the 
lights  turned  down  as  she  found  them.  In  a  few  mm- 
utes  she  heard  the  creaking  sound  as  of  a  door  Deing 
cautiously  opened,  and  soon  after  soft  footsteps  on  the 
velvet  carpet  of  the  hall.    In  a  moment  more  she  neard 

26 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


27 


voices — some  persons  talking  in  an  undertone.  She 
went  to  the  door,  and  as  she  did  so,  she  heard  a  voice 
which  sounded  like  her  aunt's,  saying: 

"  McClellan  is  that  you?  didn't  you  get  her?  " 

To  which  the  gruff  voice  of  a  man  answered  in  a 
tone  something  like  a  coarse  whisper: 

"  No;  I  looked  at  her  while  she  slept  and  1  thought 
it  too  bad  to  disturb  her,  and  then  slie  nestled  up  close 
to  the  pillows,  and  said  in  her  dreams,  '  Oh,  my  pretty 
mamma,  I  love  you  so  much;  kiss  your  little  girl  once 
more.'  And  she  put  her  little  lips  up  to  the  pillow 
and  kissed  it  over  and  over  again,  and  I  tell  you,  I 
hadn't  the  heart  to  touch  her." 

"  Why,  McClellan,  are  you  so  chicken-hearted  as  all 
that?"  said  the  woman,  "  It  will  never  do  to  put  it  off, 
for  just  as  sure  as  you  do,  you  lose  that  farm." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  overheard  Jane  say  to  J anet, 
when  I  was  fixing  the  water  pipes  down  in  the  kitchen 
to-day,  that  the  mother  could  not  last  but  a  few  days 
at  the  farthest,  and  I  thought  it  too  bad  to  rob  her  of 
her  only  comfort  just  as  she  was  going  out;  but  I  tell 
you  now  what  I'll  do,  I'll  keep  a  close  lookout,  and  just 
as  soon  as  she  is  under  the  sod,  I'll  get  the  child  and 
take  her  to  a  safe  place,  and  then  there'll  be  no  one  to 
feel  bad  or  make  a  fuss.  I  hate  a  fuss — I've  been  in  one 
all  my  life — but  when  I  was  behind  those  high  walls, 
and  had  a  chance  to  thinky  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
when  Jim  McClellan  got  out  into  the  world  again,  he 
would  be  a  better  man,  and  keep  out  of  such  things; 
but  I  suppose  it  is  '  fate '  that  follows  some  people,  and 
resolve  as  they  will,  it  will  conquer. 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  mean  to  say  there  is  anything 


28  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

wrong  in  this,  after  she  is  gone,  for  the  child  will  need 
a  home,  and  some  one  to  take  care  of  her,  and  it  will  be 
a  Christian  act — quite  a  missionary  work."  And  he 
chuckled  at  what  he  thought  a  witty  speech. 

Yes,"  said  the  woman,  "  but  she  is  no  stupid 
woman,  and  she  may  put  papers  in  the  hands  of  some 
one  who  may  take  immediate  steps  in  the  matter." 

Well,"  said  McClellan,  for  there  was  no  doubt  but 
that  it  was  him,  what  good  will  it  do,  or  harm  either, 
for  that  matter,  if  the  woman  is  dead,  and  the  child 
can't  be  found? " 

Oh,"  said  the  woman,  the  disgrace  of  exposure 
would  be  terrible.  1  could  not  survive  it  with  my 
poor,  weak  nerves.  It  must  not,  it  shall  not  be."  And 
she  grew  excited  at  the  thought  of  what  might  be. 

"  Whist!  not  so  loud,"  said  the  man,  and  after  that 
no  further  sound  reached  Minnie's  ear,  and  the  utter 
silence  which  had  served  as  a  telephone  to  convey  the 
low-spoken  words  to  Minnie's  ear,  fell  like  a  leaden 
weight  as  she  listened  in  vain  for  other  sounds,  and 
wondering  what  it  all  meant.  She  knew  it  was  Mc- 
Clellan, for  he  had  both  answered  to  the  name  and 
repeated  it  as  his  own.  But  the  mystery  was,  who  was 
the  woman?  Surely  it  could  not  be  her  proud  aunt,  in 
such  a  place  at  that  hour,  and  in  such  confidence  with 
a  man  so  inferior,  and  yet  that  voice  was  so  like  her's; 
but  no,  she  thought,  it  cannot  be  her,  it  must  be  one  of 
the  servants,  and  with  this  conjecture,  she  dismissed  it 
so  entirely  that  not  until  the  years  lay  piled  one  upon 
the  other  between  her  and  that  night,  did  she  recall  it, 
but  when  at  last  she  scaled  the  wall  and  looked  back 
over  the  dreary  waste,  she  wondered  at  her  own  forget- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE 


29 


fulness — wondered  that  the  light  had  not  dawned  for 
her  long  before;  "and  yet,"  she  said, ''perhaps  it  is  best; 
perhaps  the  dawning  would  not  have  been  so* bright;  so 
fraugiit  with  the  sunlight  of  God's  best  blessings,  faith 
and  patience." 

After  having  dismissed  this  little  mystery  she 
eat  thinking  of  the  day's  events,  and  of  the 
lettef  she  should  write  in  the  morning  to  her  mother. 
While  thus  deeply  absorbed,  she  was  suddenly  startled 
by  a  sound  as  of  a  child's  voice  seemingly  near  her,  but 
believing  herself  to  be  the  only  occupant  of  the  room, 
for  a  moment  a  slight  superstitous  fear  came  over  her, 
but  was  soon  banished  by  her  better  judgment.  It  was 
not  long,  howev^er,  until  the  sound  was  repeated,  this 
time  so  distinct  that  she  recognized  it  as  the  sobbing  of 
a  child.  Again  that  superstitious  fear  crept  over  her,  but 
rallying  her  courage,  she  hastily  turned  up  the  lights, 
and  saw  the  closely-drawn  curtains  of  the  bed  part  and 
a  tiny  little  white  hand  reach  out  towards  her.  Hurrying 
forward  and  pushing  back  the  half-drawn  drapery,  she 
looked  upon  one  of  the  sweetest  little  rosy  cheeked 
cherubs  she  had  ever  seen,  her  dark  blue  eyes  beaming 
with  joy  through  her  tears,  at  the  sight  of  a  friendly 
face. 

''You  little,  darling  stranger,"  said  Minnie,  "where 
did  you  come  from,  and  who,  and  what  are  you?  Are 
you  a  real  live  child,  or  are  you  an  angel?  If  a  real 
live  child,  come  right  up  here  and  let  me  hold  you  by 
the  fire;  and  you  tell  me  all  about  yourself,"  and  she 
held  out  her  hands  to  take  her.  The  little  one,  some- 
what shyly,  began  raising  herself  up  and  fumbling 
about  as  if  to  find  gomething  she  had  lost*     At  length 


30  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

she  took  out  from  under  the  pillow  a  bow  of  faded  blue 
ribbon,  and  holding  it  up  said: 

"  See  that;  isn't  it  nice?    Tommy  gave  it  to  me." 
"Who  is  Tommy?"  questioned  Minnie.    "  Is  he  your 
big  brother?" 

To  which  she  answered  readily,  all  reserve  being  cast 
aside  now^  that  Tommy  was  the  subject  of  conversation. 
"  No,  he  isnH  my  brother,  and  I  guess  he  isn't  nobody's 
brother,  but  he  is  good  enough  to  be  lots  of  folk's 
brother.    Oh,  he  is  so  goodP 

''Well,"  said  Minnie,  come  along  and  let  me  hold 
you,  and  then  you  can  tell  me  all  about  yourself  and 
Tommy  and  everybody  you  know  that  is  good." 

"With  this  the  child  put  out  her  little  dimpled  hands 
and  sprang  into  her  arms,  clasping  her  own  chubby 
little  arms  around  her  neck,  and  kissing  her  impul- 
sively. Minnie  returned  the  fervent  kiss,  and  seated 
herself  with  the  child  in  her  arms,  saying: 

"  This  Aunty  is  very  glad  she  has  found  a  little  girl; 
she  was  getting  very  lonely." 

"Whose  Aunty  are  you?"  said  the  child,  looking  up 
wonderingly  into  her  face. 

<rOh,  I  am  not  real  Aunty  to  any  one,"  said  Minnie, 
"  but  I  am  play  Aunty  to  a  good  many  little  girls 
and  boys." 

«  Why,  arn't  you  no  real  Aunty  to  nobody,"  said  the 
child,  the  perplexed  look  growing  more  intense, 

"Because  I  have  no  brothers  or  sisters,  and  it's  to 
one's  brothers  and  sisters'  children  that  people  are  aunts 
and  uncles,"  said  Minnie.  "  But  come,  you  haven't  told 
me  who  you  are  yet." 

But  the  child  seemed  not  to  hear^  for  she  kept  on  that 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


31 


perplexed>,  anxious  look,  and  continued  to  probe  Minnie 
with  questions. 

''Are  you  just  one,  with  your  Papa  and  Mamma,  like 
Miss  Nellie  that  lives  in  this  house,  and  is  going  away 
on  the  big  water  w^ith  a  man  that  is  not  her  Papa  or 
Mamma,  either?  She's  going  to  stay  a  long,  long  time, 
and  I  'spect  she'll  get  lonesome  some  dark  nights  and 
cry  for  her  Mamma.    I  should.    Wouldn't  you?" 

And  without  waiting  for  Minnie  to  answer  or  appear- 
ing to  notice  that  her  eyes  were  riveted  upon  her  as  if 
looking  down  in  to  the  very  soul  of  the  little,  innocent 
prattler,  she  continued  with  a  little  sigh: 

"  I'm  just  like  that,  too,  and  so  is  Tommy,  only  I'm  just 
one  with  Mamma;  my  Papa  is  dead.  I  don't  'member 
him.  I  was  a  tiny  baby  then.  Tommy  just  has  a 
Grandma,  that's  all  he  has.  But  then  he's  good.  I 
have  no  Grandma."  Then,  after  a  pause,  her  little  chin 
and  lips  began  to  quiver,  and  a  strange  light  came  into 
her  eye,  and  the  sweet,  happy  look  gave  place  to  one  of 
sadness,  and  to  Minnie  she  appeared  to  have  suddenly 
grown  from  a  child  to  a  woman,  and  she  said,  with 
anxiety: 

" Child,  what  is  it  that  troubles  you?" 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  she  replied: 

"  Mamma  is  going  away  some  day  soon.  She's  going 
to  die,  too,  and  then — and  then — " 

Here  her  little  voice  faltered,  and  putting  her  dimpled 
hands  over  her  face,  she  cried  aloud: 

"  Oh,  I  do  wish  Jane  would  come  and  take  me  home. 
I  want  to  see  Mamma,  and  I  know  she  wants  to  see  me. 
It  is  so  long  since  morning.  Do  please  call  Jane; 
won't  you,  lady?" 


32  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Minnie  folded  the  little  one  close  up  to  her  warm, 
loving  heart,  and  kissed  her  over  and  over  again,  strok- 
ing her  hands  through  her  golden  curls,  and  with  her 
handkerchief  she  wiped  away  her  tears,  saying: 

"  I  wouldn't  cry  any  more,  Jane  will  come  pretty 
soon.  And  I  want  you  tell  me  who  Jane  is,  and  where 
she  lives ;  and  then  you  know  you  haven't  told  who  you 
are  and  where  you  live,  and  there  are  a  great  many 
things  I  want  you  to  tell  me  before  Jane  comes  to  take 
you  home.  I  am  afraid  we  won't  get  half  through  before 
you  go." 

Being  thus  soothed,  she  wiped  her  eyes  on  the  corner 
of  her  little  blue  gingham  apron,  and  taking  hold  of 
Minnie's  hand,  began  counting  her  fingers,  and  at 
length  she  said: 

Well,  Jane — is — Jane;  and  she  is  real  good,  and  she 
lives  in  the  room  next  to  ours,  and  she  stays  with 
Mamma  nights  since  she  is  worse,  and  daytimes  too, 
when  she  doesn't  have  to  work  some  place." 

Where  do  you  live?"  said  Minnie,  quite  as  anxious 
to  divert  the  child  as  to  be  informed  of  her  place  of 
residence. 

"Me?"  said  the  child.  "Why,  I  live  way  over 
there,"  pointing  toward  the  corner  where  the  old  clock 
was  ticking  away  the  hour  of  ten.  "  In  that  old  iroken 
house^  the  worstest  broken  house  there  is,  away  down 
past  the  nice  ones,  nearly  to  the  river.  Oh,  it  is  so 
broken,  the  cold  just  comes  in  all  over  and  stays  just  as., 
long  as  it  pleases,  and  we  haven't  coal  enough  to  build  a 
fire  bigger  enough  to  drive  it  out;  but  Mammals  all 
r<n  -red  up  in  bed,  and  she  doesn't  get  very  cold;  but  I 
to  take  that  little  gtool,  it  isn't  a  bit  like  that  one,"— 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


S3 


pointing  to  the  hassock  at  Minnie's  feet, — "  it's  just  a 
little  box  with  cloth  over  it.  Mamma  used  to  have  it 
to  put  her  feet  on.  I  put  it  close  up  to  the  stove  and 
sit  with  my  face  close  to  the  fire  until  my  back  gets 
cold,  then  I  turn  around  the  other  way  until  my  face 
gets  cold." 

Then  she  laughed  a  clear,  ringing  laugh  at  the  picture 
she  had  drawn  of  herself  trying  to  keep  warm  "  in  the 
old  broken  house." 

You  look  like  Mamma,"  she  continued,  looking  up 
at  Minnie,  '^or  like  the  picture  she  had;  she  left  it  on 
the  window  one  day,  and  1  guess  somebody  took  it,  for 
we  can't  find  it.  But  Mamma  don't  look  that  way  now, 
she's  sick;  her  hair  is  like  yours  and  her  eyes  too.  I 
wish  I  looked  like  her,  but  Mamma  says  I  look  like 
Papa.  And,  oh!  "  she  said,  brightening  up  as  if  a  new 
thought  had  occurred  to  her,  "  There  was  two  of  me 
when  I  was  a  little  baby,  but  one  died  w^hen  I  had  the 
whooping  cough.  Mamma  has  my  picture  in  two  little 
watches  just  alike.  The  other  one  of  me  was  named 
Minnie." 

Minnie  was  apparently  deeply  absorbed  in  her  own 
thoughts,  yet  she  heard  all  the  little  one  was  saying,  and 
smiled  at  the  child's  ideas  of  what  perhaps  were  twins, 
and  said: 

"  Well,  now  tell  me  what  the  live  one  of  you  is 
called." 

"  O,  yes.  I  forgot  to  tell  you.  My  name  is  Nellie 
Kjlare.  Mamma  is  Mrs.  Clare,  her  other  name  is  Helen, 
but  nobod^f^Us  her  that;  its  just  in  the  book  that  way 
Vh^re  it  teK^i  ^bout  Papa  and  fier  being  married* 

i 


84  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Mamma  reads  it  to  me  sometimes,  but  you  can't  guess 
what  my  other  name  is,  can  yoxx?" 

''No,  I  am  not  good  at  guessing.  Can't  you  tell 
me?  said  Minnie,  not  one  bit  weary  of  the  bright  little 
creature's  chattering. 

*'  Tommy  calls  me  Hit-and-Miss,''  and  she  laughed 
outright  as  she  said:    "  Isn't  that  a  funny  name?" 

That  is  rather  an  odd  name  for  a  nice  little  girl  like 
you.    What  makes  him  call  you  that? "  said  Minnie* 

^'  Why,  you  know,"  said  the  child,  "  that  his  Grandma 
Oaruthers,  where  he  lives  up  stairs,  she  makes  carpets 
for  people  out  of  little  bits  of  rags  sewed  together  in 
big  round  balls*"  And  here  she  gave  a  graphic  descrip* 
tion  of  the  loom  by  telling  how  she  put  the  long  strings 
in  a  frame  and  then  with  the  rags  in  a  bunch,  puts  them 
through  this  way  and  then  ba,ck  that  way,  imitating 
the  throwing  of  a  shuttle,  and  it's  all  striped  blue  ones*, 
and  black  ones,  and  white,  and  yellow,  and  every  kind 
of  color  all  mixed  up  and  going  past  each  other  and 
then  coming  nearly  back  again,  and  then  it  stops  and  lets 
some  other  stripe  right  into  its  path.  Didn't  you  ever 
see  that  kind  of  a  carpet? " 

"  O,  yes,"  said  Minnie,  ^'  the  one  on  this  floor  is  that 
kind,  isn't  it?  "  At  which  she  looked  down  for  a  mo- 
ment, then  said: 

''  Yes,  it  is*  Well,  you  see  Tommy  thinks  I'm  like  it 
because  I  cry  a  little,  and  laugh  a  little,  run  a  little,  then 
walk  a  little,  talk  a  long  stripe,  and  then  sing  a  little 
short  one,  and  then  don't  sing,  and  he  says  just  when 
he  thinks  I'm  going  to  do  one  thing  I  do  the  other,  and 
that's  why  he  calls  me  Hit-and-Miss*  I  never  bit  any- 
body — that  isn't  it.'* 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE, 


85 


"  Our  life,"  said  Minnie,  with  a  thoughtful  look  upon 
her  face,  as  if  a  new  thought  had  been  born  into  her 
young  mind,  "  is  made  up  of  Hits  and  Misses,  and  I 
wish  it  lay  in  my  power  to  guide  and  control  the  '  Hand 
of  Fate'  for  you,  my  precious  little  child,  so  that  the 
misses  would  be  very  few  in  your  life-work,"  and  she 
bent  forward  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  her  fair  young 
cheek,  while  a  tear  moistened  her  eye. 

Just  then  steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs.  "Oh,  there 
comes  Jane,"  said  the  child,  whose  quick  ear  had 
caught  the  sound.  <'Hark!"  and  she  turned  up 
her  little  head  in  a  listening  attitude  as  the  steps  drew 
nearer.  A  happy  smile  lit  up  her  face  at  the  thought 
that  she  would  soon  be  taken  to  her  mother. 

''O,  it  is  her;  it  is  her,  I  know,"  she  kept  repeating  as 
she  started  towards  the  door,  and  then  as  if  half  in 
fear,  she  retreated  to  Minnie's  side  again. 

In  a  moment  the  door  opened  softly  and  Jane's 
pale,  pleasant  face  looked  in, 

**0,  you  are  up  are  you,  child?  "and  turning  to 
Minnie,  she  said: 

"  Please  excuse  me,  Miss,  for  leaving  her  so  long  in 
your  room.  I  did  not  know  it  was  occupied,  until  a 
few  moments  ago  Janet  told  me,  and  then  I  made 
haste  to  get  through.  I  have  been  putting  her  here 
for  several  nights.  Mrs.  Baldwin  said  it  was  the  quiet- 
est place  in  the  house.  Poor  little  thing!  she  gets  very 
tired  and  sleepy,"  and  saying  this,  she  stooped  and 
kissed  the  child,  who  stood  looking  up  into  her  face  as 
if  impatient  to  be  on  her  way  home. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  said  Minnie,  "  I  have  been  highly 
entertained^  and  should  have  been  quite  lonely  without 


36 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


her.    She  tells  me  her  mother  is  sick;  is  she  very  ill?" 

To  which  Jane  replied,  with  a  deep  sigh,  '^Yes, 
ma'am,  sLe  is  quite  far  gone  in  consumption.  I  bring 
the  child  with  me,  for  I  get  an  old  lady  to  stay  with 
her  when  I  am  away,  wdio  is  very  nervous  and  does  not 
like  the  worry  of  children — has  no  patience  with  them. 
But  I  must  be  going,"  said  she,  turning  away  as  if  to 
avoid  speaking  further  upon  a  subject  which  evidently 
was  quite  painful  to  her. 

"  It  is  late.  Nellie,  say  good-night  to  the  lady  and 
thank  her  for  the  care  she  has  given  you." 

"  She  has  been  no  trouble,"  said  Minnie,  with  her 
usual  politeness,  even  to  those  who  might  be  considered 
as  inferiors,  although  one  would  easily  recognize  in 
Jane  a  refinement  and  intelligence  above  that  of  the 
ordinary  servant,  and  poverty  seemed  the  only  barrier 
from  respectable  society. 

"  Can't  I  have  a  kiss,  Nellie?  I  shall  call  you  by  that 
name,  notwithstanding  Master  Tom  to  the  contrary.  I 
hope  I  shall  see  you  again."  And  with  the  good-night 
kiss  of  the  little  stranger  warm  upon  her  lips,  she  said 
to  herself,  1  love  that  child  as  I  never  loved  a  child 
before,"  and  closing  the  door,  she  was  once  more  alone. 


CHAPTER  III. 


MRS.  CLARE. 

O,  Mamma,"  said  little  Nellie  Clare,  as  she  ran  up 
to  the  bedside  where  her  sick  mother  lay,  kissing  her 
over  and  over  again.  ''Oh,  Mamma,  it  lias  been  so 
long,  and  I  wanted  to  see  you  so  much;  and  when  Jane 
put  me  to  bed  and  then  went  down  so  many  steps  to 
the  kitchen,  I  cried  and  couldn't  help  it;  then  after 
awhile  I  went  to  sleep  and  forgot  I  was  alone.  1  thought 
I  saw  you  and.  you  wasn't  a  bit  sick,  and  we  lived  in  a 
nice  warm  house,  and  every  thing  was  so  nice,  and 
Tommy  lived  with  us,  and  there  was  three  of  us  then." 

''My  little  girl  had  a  nice  dream  didn't,  she?  "  said 
Mrs.  Clare,  and  she  closed  her  eyes,  and  a  look  of  deep 
anguish  swept  over  her  pale,  emaciated  face,  which 
found  relief  in  words  so  low  as  scarcely  to  be  heard  by 
mortal  ear,  and  yet  the  kind  Shepherd  to  whom  they 
were  spoken,  heard  that  mother's  pleading  for  protec- 
tion for  her  little  tender  lamb,  that  it  might  not  be  left 
to  wander  out  on  the  barren  mountains  of  sin,  but  be 
kept  forever  in  the  sheep  fold  of  his  love. 

"  O,  yes.  Mamma,"  she  continued,  all  thoughts  of 
sleep  being  banished,  "I  forgot  to  tell  you  the  rest," 
then  after  warming  her  fingers  by  the  fire  which  Jane 
had  just  replenished,  came  back,  leaned  her  elbows  upon 
the  low  cot,  and  resting  her  face  upon  her  hands,  she 

37 


88  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

recounted  all  that  she  had  seen  and  heard  during  the 
day ;  especially  did  she  dwell  upon  her  new-found  friend. 
Slie  told  how  she  had  held  her  in  her  arms  and  wept 
when  she  told  her  how  sick  her  mamma  was,  and  that 
she  had  kissed  away  her  tears,  and  concluded  her  eulo- 
gizing only  when  words  to  convey  her  partiality  failed. 

"  O,  Mamma,  she  is  so  good^  and  looks  like  you — 
only — only — she  isn't  a  bit  sick." 

Then  after  quite  a  long  pause,  she  said,  "  Mamma 
must  you  go  away  to  your  heavenly  home  before  I 
grow  a  big  woman? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Clare,  that  look  of  anguish  com- 
ing  over  her  face  once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  "  I 
must  go  before  long." 

''Then,"  said  the  child,  "I  wish — I  wish — and 
then  she  paused  as  if  fearful  of  saying  something  which 
might  wound  her  mother. 

What  is  it,  my  child?  "  said  Mrs.  Clare,  seeing  her 
hesitancy, ''  so  you  wish  you  could  live  with  her  when  I 
am  gone? " 

"  That  is  what  I  was  going  to  say.  Mamma;  was  it 
wicked?" 

"  No,  my  dear,  it  is  all  right,  and  Mamma  wishes  so 
too.  Jane  told  me  while  you  were  at  the  fire  warming 
yourself  that  Miss  Nellie's  cousin,  Minnie,  had  come," 
and  closing  her  eyes  she  said  wearily,  and  what  did 
she  tell  you,  my  dear;  did  she  say  anything  about  her 
papa  and  mamma,  or  any  one  of  her  folks?  " 

No,"  said  Nellie,  she  just  said  there  were  only 
three  of  them,  her  papa,  and  mamma,  and  herself." 

Mrs.  Clare  reached  out  her  slender  arms  and  folded 
her  darling  child  in  one  long  fond  embrace,  baptizing 


A  STOBT  OF  REAL  LIFB. 


89 


her  with  tears  wrung  from  a  grief-stricken  heart  by  the 
memory  of  other  days.  Her  thoughts  as  she  held  her 
child  to  her  bosom,  were  never  known  to  mortals,  but 
the  recording  angel  lost  not  a  single  word,  as  he  dipped 
his  pen  in  her  hot  tears,  and  added  another  page  to  the 
scroll  of  that  soul's  earth  history. 

"  Come  now,  my  child,"  said  she,  being  brought  back 
from  the  far  away  realms  of  the  past — or  the  beautiful 
one  of  the  future,  where  her  soul  had  been  journeying 
during  that  long  silence — by  the  nestling  of  the  lit- 
tle head  upon  her  bosom.  Go,  get  in  with  Jane,  you 
are  all  in  a  chill.  I  am  sorry  I  have  kept  you  so  long, 
but  I  didn't  feel  as  if  I  could  give  you  up,  for  per- 
haps— "  She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but  drawing 
her  close  to  her,  once  more  she  kissed  her  good-night, 
and  the  child  was  soon  folded  in  Jane's  strong  arms, 
close  up  to  her  great  warm  heart. 

Jane  had  been  left  orphaned  at  an  early  age,  and  she 
Knew  how  desolate  the  world  appeared,  and  how  dark 
were  even  the  brightest  days  to  the  heart  hungering  for 
the  unselfish  love  of  a  mother.  She  had  brought  her  cot 
into  Mrs.  Clare's  room  since  she  had  grown  worse,  so 
as  to  be  near  her  in  case  she  needed  assistance  during 
the  nighlt.  She  knew  she  was  liable  to  drop  off  at  any 
time. 

Jane  and  Nellie,  in  their  deep  sleep,  one  from  weari- 
ness, after  a  hard  day's  work,  the  other  from  the  con- 
ditions of  youth  and  health,  never  knew  of  the  long 
hours  of  weary  tossing  and  vainly  courting  the  quiet  of 
sleep  which  the  invalid  pasted,  but,  by  the  light  of 
early  day,  they  saw  that  a  cliaiKf-e  had  come.  There 
was  a  restless  rolling  of  the  head,  the  thin  hands  clutch- 


40  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

ing  nervously  at  the  bedclothes,  a  hollow,  sunken  look 
about  the  eyes;  and  yet,  upon  being- asked  how  she  felt, 
replied,  with  a  softened  voice  and  placid  smile:  1 
think  I  feel  better  this  morning."  The  angel  eyes 
looking  down  deep  into  the  heart,  where  no  earthly 
vision  CO  aid  penetrate,  saw  that  indeed  she  was  better. 
O!  ye  mothers  who  have  little  ones  clinging  to  you  for 
affection  and  sustenance,  chide  her  not  for  clinging  with 
so  much  tenacity  to  life,  even  though  it  be  a  poor, 
miserable  existence  of  pain  and  want.  But  she  had 
fought  a  great  battle  during  the  long  midnight  hours, 
and  had  come  off  victorious.  She  had  come  to  that 
better  dawn,  where  she  could  say,  "Thy  will,  oh  God, 
not  mine,  be  done." 

"  Jane,"  she  said,  seeing  that  she  had  the  morning 
work  out  of  the  way,  and  was  putting  on  her  wraps, 
"Are  you  going  to-day  ?  I  was  in  hopes  you  would 
not  have  to  go.  Must  you?  If  so,  I  will  not  be  sel- 
fish." 

"Yes,"  said  Jane,  "I  suppose  1  must,  for. this  is  the 
day  of  all  days.  To-night  is  the  wedding.  I'll  not 
take  Nellie,  for  1  shall  not  get  home  until  very  late,  if 
I  come  at  all.  But  if  you  are  worse,  and  need  me,  I 
shall  come  at  all  hazards.  Tommy  will  take  care  of 
Nellie,  and  the  old  lady  will  stay  with  you.  I  have 
put  a  chicken  over,  and  Mrs.  Porter  will  attend  to  it, 
and  bring  you  in  some  broth  when  you  wish  it,  and 
Tommy  will  come  for  me  and  go  for  the  doctor  if  you 
need  us." 

"  Oh,  Jane,"  said  Mrs.  Clare,  "  You  are  so  kind  and 
self-sacrificing.  You  can  never  know  how  I  appreciate 
all  you  have  done  for  me,  and  your  reward  will  be  given 


the:  sound  of  their  approach  akouseu  him.    See  page  24. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  41 

by  the  Father  whose  eye  never  loses  sight  of  ^the  bread 
we  cast  upon  the  waters;'  ])ut  before  you  go,"  she  con- 
tinued, "  I  want  to  ask  if  you  remember  all  1  have  told 
you  concerning  my  dear  Nellie?"  And  upon  being 
asjuared  that  every  word  was  treasured  away  as  sacred^ 
she  continued  :  "  I  know  I  can  trust  you,  and  I  shall 
pray  with  my  latest  breath  that  God  w411  aid  you  in 
carrying  out  my  desires.  But  He  knows  best,  and 
will  do  all  things  as  seemeth  good  to  Him. 

"  There  is  one  thing  more  I  have  to  say.  I  have 
been  putting  it  off,  but  perhaps  I  had  better  say  it  now. 
I  will  detain  you  but  a  moment.  Come  close  to 
me,  Jane;  let  me  take  your  hands  in  mine  while  I  say 
it."  Jane  obeyed,  kneeling  dowm  by  the  low  bed,  and, 
with  hands  clasped  in  her's,  she  listened  to  a  new  and 
strange  revelation.  And  then,  with  the  promise  to 
hold  forever  sacred  the  trust  reposed  in  her,  she  kissed 
the  cold,  damp  hand,  smoothed  back  the  dark  silken 
locks  from  her  brow,  and  with  a  reluctant  step  and  an 
anxious  look  back,  she  went  out  from  the  presence  of 
''  one  she  had  learned  to  love  as  a  sister. 

The  sun  was  shining  brightly.  The  air  was  crisp 
and  frosty.  Men  and  women  were  hastening  to  and 
fro  in  all  directions  and  on  various  missions.  Jane,  in 
her  great  haste,  as  it  was  growing  late,  and  w^ith  her 
burthen  of  sorrow  at  heart,  for  she  had  sad  forebodings 
this  morning.  A  deep  shadow  had  fallen  over  her, 
and  so  wholly  was  she  absorbed  in  her  own  thoughts 
that  she  would  scarcely  have  known  but  that  she 
was  the  only  pedestrian  abroad  this  morning,  had 
not  a  familiar  voice  close  by  her  s4de  said:  ''Jane  Coil, 
what  are  you  doing  out  so  early  and  in  this  direction} 

I 


4:2  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  O,  is  it  you,  Sarah  Simms?"  said  Jane.  "  Well,  I'm 
going  up  to  Fifth  Avenue  to  help  Mrs.  Baldwin.  Their 
daugliter  is  to  be  married  to-night.  I  have  been  there 
for  three  days.  Janet,  their  head  cook,  is  a  friend  of 
mine,  and  she  came  to  see  if  I  would  help  them.  I 
needed  the  money,  so  I  went,  but  I  feel  as  if  it  was 
wrong  for  me  to  go  to-day.  But  they  are  depending 
upon  me  and  so  I  had  to  go." 

"  Why  do  you  feel  that  it  is  wrong  for  you  to  go 
to-day?" 

"Well,"  slie  replied,  '^Mrs.  Clare  is  failing  very  fast, 
and  I  feel  that  my  first  duty  is  with  her.  What  are 
you  doing?    Can't  you  go  and  take  my  place  to-day?" 

"  Why,  yes,  I  should  be  glad  to.  1  have  been  down 
to  Mrs.  Owen's.  She  expected  company,  and  wanted 
extra  help;  but  she  received  a  telegram  last  night  that 
they  were  snow-bound,  and  would  not  be  here  for  sev- 
eral days." 

"Then  come  right  away,"  said  Jane,  "and  I  will 
stay  until  ten  o'clock  and  initiate  you,  and  at  the  same 
time  make  up  for  lost  time." 

Ten  o'clock  found  Jane  hastening  homeward.  She 
had  not  gone  but  a  short  distance  when  Tommy  came 
running  up,  and  would  have  passed  her,  not  expecting 
to  see  her  on  the  street,  had  she  not  called  to  him  to 
know  if  it  was  she  he  was  going  for. 

"  O,  yes,"  said  he,  gasping  for  breath.  "  Do  hurry. 
She  is  much  worse,  and  I  am  afraid  she  will  not  live  till 
we  get  back.  She  has  said  good-by  to  us  all,  and  has 
little  Nellie  folded  in  her  arms.  She  said,  '  Jesus  will 
take  care  of  my  little  Lamb.' "  And  he  continued,  as 
they  walked  rapidly  forward,  "  she  is  so  happy,  and  isn't 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


43 


crying  a  bit.  Grandma  and  Mrs.  Porter,  and  all  the 
folks  in  the  house  are  in  there,  and  she  looks  riglit  up 
to  the  wall  as  if  she  saw  something,  and  sings  so  sweetly 
about  them  being  around  her.  bed  and  in  her  room. 
Just  as  1  was  going  to  start  tor  you  she  said  right  out 
i.s  clear  and  plain  as  she  used  to  before  she  was  sick, 
"Father,  mother,  husband  and  baby,  all  are  here.'" 

Jane,  who  was  walking  rapidly  by  his  side,  heard 
every  word  he  said,  and  yet  she  spoke  not  a  word  until 
he  had  concluded,  then  with  a  ''Thank  God!"  she  said, 
"  My  prayers  have  been  answered.  I  have  prayed  that 
the  dear  woman  might  be  spared  until  she  could  feel 
reconciled  to  go.  It  will  be  hard  enough  to  see  her  go 
at  the  best,  but  I  could  not  have  endured  to  see  her 
clinging  to  life  and  to  the  child  against  the  will  of  God." 

"Well,"  said  Tommy,  "  1  can't  understand  it,  any 
way,  why  God  should  want  to  take  her  away  and  leave 
that  child  all  alone  without  a  relation  in  the  world. 
Not  even  a  Grandma.  Can  you?"  To  w^hich  Jane 
replied  with  a  perplexed  look  upon  her  face,  as  if  the 
problem  was  as  far  from  being  solved  in  her  ow^n  mind 
as  in  that  of  her  young  companion.  "This,  Tommy,  is 
one  of  the  ^sealed  hoohs,^    Let  us  not  question  God." 

That  night,  when  the  vesper  bells  rang  out  upon  the 
clear  wintry  air,  they  served  alike  for  "  marriage  bells 
and  for  funeral  dirge."  To  the  gathered  throng  of 
happy  hearts  at  Ned  Baldwin's,  on  Fifth  Avenue,  they 
had  a  merry  sound,  while  to  the  sad  ones  in  the  old 
tenement  house  on  Forty-second  street,  they  were  a 
mournful  requiem. 

Smiles  and  songs  at  the  one  place,  sadness  and  tears  at 
the  other,  bright  lights  flashing  their  rays  out  from  the 


44  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

windows  of  one  telling  to  the  passer-by  that  all  was  joy 
within,  while  the  subdued  light  of  the  other  told  the 
silent  watchers  that  a  flashing  light  from  the  heavenly 
robes  of  the  convoy  of  angel  messengers  had  made  a 
brighter  light  than  mortal  eye  had  yet  beheld,  to  light 
the  pathway  through  which  a  soul,  with  its  earth  work 
done,  its  mission  fulfilled,  had  passed  up  to  the  heav- 
enly mansion. 


CHAPTER  lY. 


THE  OLD  BROKEN  HOUSE. 

The  great  event  for  which  weeks  of  time,  and  thou- 
sands of  dollars,  had  been  sacrificed,  was  over.  The 
happy  pair  were  on  their  way  to  Europe,  to  be  gone  an 
indefinite  length  of  time.  The  reaction  was  felt  all 
through  the  house.  As  a  natural  consequence,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Baldwin  were  sad  and  depressed  in  spirits  at  the 
absence  of  their  only  child.  And  while  Mr.  Baldwin 
could  divert  his  mind  by  close  attention  to  business, 
Mrs.  Baldwin  was  restless,  and  as  Janet  said,  was  "  try- 
ing to  work  herself  into  a  fit  of  hysterics."  Minnie  was 
amusing  herself  going  about  the  house  putting  things 
to  rights,  and  while  rearranging  and  putting  fresh  water 
to  the  boquets,  she  thought  of  Uncle  Ned's  love  for 
flowers,  and  she  concluded  to  select  some  of  the  choicest 
and  put  in  the  library,  his  favorite  room,  in  which  he 
spent  most  of  his  home  hours.  In  crossing  the  hall  for 
that  purpose,  she  saw  McClellan  standing  just  outside 
her  Aunt's  room  door,  and  her  Aunt  quite  near  him,  they 
seeming  to  be  engaged  in  earnest  conversation.  Upon 
seeing  Minnie  cross  the  hall  they  both  started  suddenly, 
the  man  turning  quickly  in  the  direction  of  the  stairs 
leading  to  the  kitchen,-  saying  in  tones  loud  enough  to 
have  been  heard  in  the  attic,  "  Yes,  I'll  see  that  the 
girls  attend  to  it  right  away. 

4& 


46  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Mrs.  Baldwin  quietly  withdrew  to  lier  room,  closing 
the  door  after  her,  but  soon  afterwards  came  into  the 
library  where  Minnie  was,  saying  as  she  came  in: 
"  What  are  you  going  to  do  to  kill  time  after  lunch, 
Minnie?'^  To  which  the  young  lady  replied,  "I  have 
no  definite  plans,  Aunty.  Have  you  anything  to  sug- 
gest?" 

"  Not  for  any  one  except  myself,"  said  she,  looking 
the  picture  ol  despair.  "  I  shall  shut  myself  up  in  a 
quiet  room  for  an  hour's  rest.  These  poor,  w^eak  nerves 
of  mine  are  completely  unstrung.  I  feel  as  if  I  never 
could  get  rested  again."  (Those  poor,  weak  nerves 
serving  as  an  excuse  for  very  many  of  her  shortcomings, 
and  were  brought  forward  on  all  occasions). 

"Well,  then,"  said  Minnie,  "if  you  have  no  plans 
for  me,  I  believe  I  will  walk  out  and  do  some  shop- 
ping." 

"  You'd  better  ride,  had'nt  you?"  said  her  aunt. 

"  No,  thank  you.  Aunty,"  Minnie  replied,  "  I  need  the 
exercise.    Besides,  I'm  not  going  far." 

Accordingly,  after  lunch,  Minnie  started  out  on  her 
almost  aimless  walk,  not  having  decided  fully  what 
direction  to  take,  when,  all  of  a  sudden,  after  having 
gone  but  a  few  rods,  she  thought  of  little  "  Hit-and- 
Miss,"  and  smiling  at  the  oddness  of  the  name,  she 
turned  suddenly  about,  and  started  off  in  the  opposite 
direction — the  one  indicated  by  the  child  in  which  she 
lived — and  with  a  desire  to  find  the  "  old  broken  house," 
and  little  Nellie  and  her  sick  mother.  She  turned  into 
Forty-second  street,  and  after  going  a  short  distance  she 
hesitated  about  gomg  further,  saying,  half  aloud,  "No, 
this  cannot  be  the  street,  for  these  are  all  nice,  large 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE. 


47 


houses.  But  now,  I  remember,  she  said  it  was  away 
dowm  past  tlie  nice  big  houses.  So  she  pursued  her 
way  onward,  passing  stately  brown-stone  fronts,  where 
everything  indicated  ease,  peace  and  plenty.  At  last 
they  began  to  appear  less  pretentious,  and  alter  that, 
quite  suggestive  of  broken  houses.  It  was  one  of  those 
bright,  warm  days,  known  in  the  country  as  the  Jan- 
uary thaw."  The  doors  of  some  of  the  tenement  houses 
stood  open,  and  she  could  see  the  long,  rickety  flights  of 
stairs,  and  she  thought  of  the  good  Tommy  "  and  his 
grandmother,  who  made  carpets,  and  v^ondered  if  she 
lived  up  any  of  these  stairs,  knowing  if  she  did,  that 
Nellie  and  her  mother  were  on  the  floor  below,  and  she 
looked  inquiringly  into  the  faces  of  many'  of  the  urchins 
who  were  substituting  their  unwashed  faces  and  dis- 
hevelled heads  for  the  minus  lights  of  glass  in  the 
\yindows;  and  shuddered  to  think  of  finding  that  dear 
little  affectionate  Nellie  and  her  sick  mother,  and  the 
lady-like  Jane,  amid  such  destitution.  As  she  was  nearing 
one  of  these  doors,  an  old  lady,  bent  beneath  the  burden  of 
a  long  life's  journey,  came  slowly  dow^n  the  creaking 
wooden  stairs,  leaning  heavily  with  one  hand  upon  her 
cane,  and  supported  on  the  other  side  by  a  neatly-dressed, 
middle-aged  Irish  woman.  Just  as  Minnie  came  up  to 
them,  and  was  walking  leisurely  along,  keeping  back  of 
them,  as  she  had  no  stopping  place  in  view,  unless  she 
chanced  to  find  without  difficulty  the  home  of  Nellie 
Clare,  ghe  heard  the  old  lady  say,  ''  Yes,  the  day  is  so 
pleasant,  I  thought  it  w^ould  do  me  good  to  get  out  this 
little  way.  Of  course  I  couldn't  go  far,  and  I  wanted 
so  maich  to  see  the  '  dear  faded  rose,'  as  Doctor  Bein 
always  called  her.    I  could  not  bear  to  think  of  her 


48  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

being  laid  away  forever  and  me  not  see  her  again,  even 
if  her  beautiful  brown  eyes  are  closed  to  all  earthly 
sights."  And  the  old  lady  gave  an  audible  groan,  as  if 
her  heart  was  in  full  sympathy  with  the  words  she  had 
spoken. 

"  It's  meself,"  answered  her  companion,  "  that's  after 
belavin'  that  them  same  swate  brown  eyes  are  wide  open, 
and  seein'  of  far  more  beautiful  sights  than  any  she  has 
look't  upon  this  many  a  year;  but  somehow  or  anither 
I'm  afther  thinkin'  she  was  ill  used  to  seein'  of  so  much 
poverty  and  distriss  like.  There  was  suthin'  about  the 
poor  crature  remindin'  me  all  the  while  of  the  grand 
folks  in  the  fine  houses,  she  was  so  quiet  and  ginteel 
like  in  her  ways.  I  used  to  think  she  was  stuck  up  for 
a  poor  woman  that  was  depindeiit  upon  the  charity  of 
folks  that  had  to  work  hard  for  their  own  bread  and  but- 
ther.  There  is  Jane  Coil  spendin'  of  her  time  and 
dividin'  of  her  little  mite,  and  doin'  it  so  cheerful  like 
for  her;  but,"  she  continued,  seeing  the  old  lady  w^as 
silent,  and  fearing  she  did  not  approve  of  the  last  re- 
mark, "  I  s'pose  it's  just  her  way,  and  I  belave  she  was 
a  good  woman.  Does  any  person  know  if  she  has  any 
folks?  They  do  say  that  naither  Jane  nor  Gran'ma 
Caruthers,  who  are  the  most  with  her,  never  heard  her 
spake  a  bit  of  a  word  about  any  relations,  and  I  do  v\^on- 
der  what  will  become  of  that  dear,  swate  child,"  and 
after  a  pause,  seeing  the  old  lady  made  no  reply,  she 
added,  "  I  s'pose  the  good  Lord  will  provide  shelter  for 
the  little  shape." 

"  Oh.  yes,"  said  the  old  lady,  "  the  Good  Shepherd 
will  take  care  of  his  lambs,"  speaking  tor  the  first  time 
since  her  companion  began. 


A  STORY   OF   REAL  LIFP]. 


49 


The  fact  was  she  liad  begun  to  love  the  faded 
rose  very  dearly,  besides  that,  she  did  not  wish  to 
encourage  the  '  pious  gossip '  of  her  neighbors,  which 
to  her,  with  her  long  years  of  experience,  was  the 
most  damaging  of  all  gossiping.  '  Gossip  cloaked 
in  sympathy,  and  cap't  w^th  piety '  w^as  in  her  esti- 
mation the  most  depraved  of  all,  and  she  gently,  but 
firmly,  rebuked  it  by  her  silence,  the  way  she  thought 
most  fitting  under  the  circumstances. 

Minnie  heard  no  more  of  this  conversation,  for  just 
then  she  heard  a  little,  familiar  voice  saying  in  a  semi- 
cheerful  tone: 

"  Oh,  Tommy,  here  comes  the  lady  from  the  nice,  big 
house,  where  I  was  with  Jane;  you  'member  I  told 
you  how  good  she  was,"  and  she  ran  up  to  meet  Minnie, 
leaving  Tommy  leaning  up  against  the  side  ot  the 
house  looking  shyly  at  the  young  lady,  while  Nellie 
had  taken  one  of  Minnie's  hands  in  each  of  her  own, 
and  looking  up  into  her  face  w^ith  a  strange,  sad  look  in 
her  eyes,  she  said : 

"  Did  you  come  to  see  my  Mamma?  I  told  her 
about  you,  and  she  wanted  to  see  you  so  bad,  but  she 
can't  see  you  now,  her  eyes  are  shut  up  tight;  she  can't 
even  see  the  light,  and  Tommy's  Grandma  says  she  never 
will  open  them  again;  and  they  are  going  to  take  her 
away  pretty  soon  and  put  her  where  the  angels  will 
come  and  get  her ;  they  will  take  her  where  she  can  see 
O!  such  nice  things." 

Here  her  little  voice  choked,  and  she  drew  Minnie's 
hand  up  to  her  face,  pressing  it  tightly,  and  seeming 
to  forget  where  she  was,  she  cried  aloud: 


4 


50 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


"  Oh,  Mamma,  poor,  dear  Mamma,  T  don't  want  them 
to  take  you  away;  who  will  I  have  to  love  me  then?" 

And  then  as  if  the  thought  had  occurred  to  her  for 
the  first  time,  her  eyes  brightened,  and  looking  up. 
through  her  tears,  she  said  in  a  sweet,  pleading  tone: 

"  Won't  you  be  my  Aunty-Mamma  while  my  real 
Mamma  is  away  in  heaven?  Oh,  please,  please  do, 
lady,"  and  she  fairly  danced  with  joy  at  the  thought. 
Minnie,  with  earnest  gaze  bent  full  into  her  face  as  if  to 
read  in  the  deeply  engraven  sorrow  of  that  young  heart, 
the  hidden  lore  of  her  future  life,  made  no  reply.  Seeing 
which,  she  continued  her  pitiful  pleading: 

"  If  you  don't  be  my  Aunty-Mamma,  who  then  will 
I  have  to  love  me?"  and  she  fairly  grew  eloquent  in  her 
earnestness. 

Just  then  the  people  gathered  about  a  door  a  short 
distance  off,  began  to  enter  what  Minnie  supposed  was 
the  old  broken  house,  and  stooping  down,  she  kissed  the 
child,  and  wiping  away  her  tears,  said: 

"  We  will  see  that  there  is  some  one  to  take  care  of 
this  little  lone  birdie,  so  I  wouldn't  cry  any  more.  Tell 
me,  is  that  your  house  where  the  people  are  going  in?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Nellie,  "  and  they  are  the  ones  that  are 
going  to  take  Mamma  away  to  the  angels.  O,  I 
don't  want  them  to,"  and  she  clung  to  Minnie's 
hand,  saying: 

"  Do  come  in  and  see  how  nice  she  looks  in  her  new 
white  dress,"  and  without  thinking  or  caring  for  aught 
else,  save  to  gratify  the  child,  she  mechanically  entered 
the  house. 

The  hall  was  a  long,  narrow  space,  through  which 
about  a  dozen  families  had  to  pass  to  reach  their  differ- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


51 


ent  apartments.  Mrs.  Clare's  room  was  on  the  firsi 
floor,  and  the  flrst  to  the  right,  looking  out  on  the  street. 
The  narrow  hall  was  pretty  well  filled  with  children 
belonging  to  the  various  families,  consequently  those 
persons  entering  from  the  street  found  it  difiicult  to  go 
further,  and  Minnie  made  no  attempt  to  go  into  the  room. 
Nellie  preferring  to  stay  by  her  rather  than  go  in  alone, 
while  near  by  her  stood  Tommy,  he  having  followea 
close  after  them.  He  was  a  boy  of,  perhaps,  twelve  years 
of  age,  tall,  slender  and  of  rather  gaunt  appearance, 
with  an  intellectual  face,  calculated  to  attract  more  than 
passing  interest.  While  thus  waiting,  Nellie  turned  to 
him,  saying: 

''It^5ller;  the  one  I  told  you  about.  I  guess  she 
will  be  my  Aunty-Mamma,  and  take  me  to  live  with  her^ 
She  didn't  say  so,  but  I  'spect  she  will;  won't  that  be 
nice,  and  won't  you  be  glad.  Tommy?" 

"  No,  it  won't  be  nice,  and  I  won't  be  glad  either,'^ 
was  his  quick,  sharp  rejoinder. 

Minnie  looked  around  just  in  time  to  catch  the  expres- 
sion on  his  pale  face,  which  she  did  not  understand  then^ 
but  after  long,  weary  years  of  care  and  anxiety  had  rip. 
ened  it  into  a  settled  melancholy,  she  knew  well  its 
meaning,  and  could  understand  it  all  when  "  she  had 
learned  the  lesson  which  all  must  learn  before  the  nations 
of  the  earth  shall  rise  to  that  eminence  of  intellectual 
strength  and  power  where  the  God  nature  designed 
them  to  stand.  When  we  have  learned  to  unravel  the 
mystic  riddle  of  childhood — when  we  have  come  fully 
to  comprehend  that  the  two  or  three  tiny,  tender  leaves, 
just  peering  out  from  the  acorn  are  just  as  t7'uly  an  oak 
as  the  stately  tree  under  the  shadows  of  which  it  nestles, 


52  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

an^i  recognize  the  oak  nature  in  it,  by  giving  it  the  Bun- 
of  love  and  sympathy — then,  and  not  till  then, 
will  many  of  life's  problems  be  solved."  Just  as  this 
glance  was  given  there  was  an  opening  made  into  the 
room  by  a  woman  in  search  of  the  child,  when  she 
caUifht  sight  of  her  in  conversation  with  Tommy.  Not 
appearing  to  notice  that  a  stranger  was  standing  near, 
she  took  hold  of  her  arm,  giving  her  a  quick  jerk,  say- 
ing in  no  very  pleasant  manner: 

**jEIere  you  are.  You  are  a  great  girl;  a  deal  you  care 
for  your  poor  dead  mother.  You  may  cry  all  you  please 
after  this  performance,  you'll  not  make  me  believe  you 
care  a  bit,  if  she  is  dead.  It's  all  put  on  to  shaja  off. 
Now,  come  right  along  in  and  see  that  you  behave 
decent.  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  of  your  bellowing,  or 
see  any  sniffling.  Now,  remember,"  and  with  this  she  gave 
her  another  jerk,  but  the  child  clung  to  Minnie's  hand 
and  looked  pleadingly  up  into  her  face,  with  cheeks 
grown  ashy  pale  and  lips  quivering  at  the  rude,  unfeeL 
ing  treatment  of  the  woman. 

Minnie,  seeing  the  child  was  not  going  contentedly 
without  her,  said: 

"  I  will  go  in  with  her,  she  seems  to  wish  it." 
I  reckon  you  can ;  but  you  must  see  that  she  don't 
go  off  in  a  fit  of  'stericks,"  said  the  woman. 

Miss  Duncan  was  the  one  woman  of  the  many  belonging 
to  that  house  who  should  not  have  been  permitted  to 
have  control  over  the  child.  She  was  one  of  those  kind 
of  women  of  which  every  village  and  city  can  boast, 
and  could  not  get  along  very  well  without,  and  to 
describe  her  to  you,  reader,  would  be  folly.  You  know 
her  just  as  well  as  I  do,  perhaps  have  come  in  contact 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


53 


with  her  more  frequently.  She  will  sacrifice  everything 
she  has  for  you,  except  affection,  and  would  that,  had  she 
a  particle  of  it  in  her  nature.  Her  life  has  been  one  of 
coi)tinued  disappointment  and  hardship,  and  whatever 
of  affection  might  have  been  implanted  in  her  by  nature, 
has  been  scared  and  blighted  long  years  ago,  and  she 
has  forgotten  its  existence. 

Upon  entering  the  room,  Minnie  found  the  seats  all 
occupied.  Jane,  observing  her,  looked  up  in  surprise, 
but  came  forward,  motioned  her  to  her  seat,  at  the  same 
time  saying  in  a  whisper,  "  How  did  you  know  the  dear 
woman  was  gone?" 

"  I  did  not  know  it,"  said  Minnie.  "  It  is  accidental 
that  I  am  here." 

"  Ah !"  said  Jane,  as  she  turned  away  to  attend  to  some 
other  duty,    That  dear  spirit  has  directed  her  here." 

After  being  seated,  with  Nellie  on  a  low  stool  by  her 
side,  Minnie  glanced  about  her,  meeting  the  curious 
gaze  of  many  eyes.  Tommy,  who  had  followed  them 
into  the  room,  had  stopped  just  inside  the  door,  and  with 
his  hands  pressed  tight  up  against  the  wall,  behind  the 
women,  who  were  obliged  to  stand  for  want  of  room. 
He  seemed  oblivious  to  all  else  save  Minnie  and  the 
child.  We  will  not  speculate  on  his  thoughts  during 
that  brief  half  hour,  but  leave  it  to  him  to  tell  out  in 
the  years  to  come.  The  brief  services,  which  were  con- 
ducted by  an  aged  city  missionary,  were  concluded,  and 
the  opportunity  given  to  look  upon  the  remains.  With- 
out the  loss  of  a  moment,  Miss  Duncan  was  at  Nellie's 
side,  and,  clutching  wdth  her  long,  bony  fingers  at  her 
little,  tender  arm,  saying,  in  a  coarse,  unfeeling  tone, 
'  Come,  now,  and  look  at  your  mother  for  the  last  time. 


54  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

They  are  going  to  take  her  away  now-  tnd  put  her  down 
into  the  great  deep  hole,  and  the  worms  will  eat  her,  and 
you  will  never  see  her  again." 

Minnie  could  listen  to  such  talk  no  longer,  for  the 
child  was  sobbing  bitterly,  and  clinging  to  her  for  pro- 
tection; so,  with  dignity  and  a  ladylike  manner,  she 
said:  I  will  attend  to  her."  This  served  to  quiet  the 
woman,  and  she  withdrew  to  entertain  a  group  of 
women  with  a  rehearsal  of  what  she  knew  of  the  dead 
woman's  history,  filling  in  the  blank  places  with  her 
own  imaginings.  The  cofSn  lid  being  removed,  Minnie 
had  a  full  view  of  the  pale,  cold  face,  so  peaceful  in  its 
repose.  When  Nellie  saw  it  she  buried  her  face  in  the 
folds  of  Minnie's  dress,  but  in  a  moment  she  dried  up 
her  tears,  and  with  heroic  effort  she  choked  down  the 
rising  sobs,  and  with  a  face  almost  as  white  as  the  one 
in  the  cofSn,  she  allowed  herself  to  be  led  to  her  moth- 
er's side.  Tommy,  seeing  from  his  hiding-place  against 
the  wall  that  she  was  not  tall  enough  to  look  easily  upon 
the  face,  sprang  forward,  and  lifting  her  in  his  arms, 
said  in  an  undertone,  Don't  the  little  dear  want  to  kiss 
her  mamma?"  She  opened  her  eyes,  as  out  of  a  deep 
sleep,  and,  with  bewildered  look,  reached  forward,  kiss- 
ing the  forehead,  the  cheek  and  hand,  and  last  of  all 
the  lips.  Then,  freeing  herself  from  the  hands  that 
held  her,  she  went  with  Minnie  back  to  her  chair,  with 
a  look  of  despair  on  her  face  strange  to  see  in  one  so 
young,  and  without  a  word  or  a  moan,  she  nestled  up  to 
her,  taking  both  her  hands  in  her  own. 

Presently  Minnie  heard  her  whisper,  "  All  alone,"  and 
'^Just  one  of  me  all  alone  f'^  and  the  "  All  alone"  fell 
with  all  the  fullness  of  utter  desolation  upon  Minnie's 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


55 


heart,  and  she  seemed  to  realize  more  fully  than  before, 
the  real  condition  of  the  little  orphaned  Nellie,  and  she 
gave  way  to  an  almost  uncontrollable  fit  of  weeping, 
from  which  she  recovered  only,  when  feeling  the  little 
form  shudder,  and  hearing  her  teeth  chatter,  and  then 
she  knew  she  was  in  a  chill.  The  effort  at  self-control 
which  Miss  Duncan  had  commanded  her  to  exercise, 
was  too  much  for  one  of  her  tender  years. 

Minnie  beckoned  to  Tommy,  who  stood  watching  the 
undertaker  as  he  closed  the  coftin,  yet  ever  and  anon 
casting  anxious  glances  toward  the  child.  In  a  moment 
he  was  by  her  side. 

"Can't  you  take  her  into  some  other  room?"  said 
Minnie,  "  and  I  will  speak  to  Jane  and  have  her  wrap 
her  up  warm.   Poor  child!  it  is  too  much  for  her." 

With  the  tenderness  of  a  father.  Tommy  lifted  her  in 
his  arms,  while  Minnie  wrapped  the  faded,  woolen  shawl 
she  found  on  the  chair  on  which  she  was  seated.  Jane, 
seeing  the  movement,  followed  after  him  to  her  own 
room. 

The  undertaker  had  just  closed  and  fastened  the 
coffin  lid,  and  was  looking  for  some  one  to  help  him  out 
with  it,  when  the  landlord  of  the  house  strode  in,  and  in 
an  authoritative  tone,  demanded  to  know  how  much 
longer  it  was  going  to  take  to  get  out  of  that  room, 
and  waving  his  gloved  hands  at  the  company,  said  in 
his  gruflf  way: 

"  If  you  are  through,  get  out  of  here;  I  have  no  time 
to  ffive  away.  You  can  do  your  lounging  and  gossiping 
somewhere  else.  The  goods  of  my  new  tenant  are  at 
the  door,  and  have  1)een  for  the  last  twenty  minutes." 
Then  turning  to  the  men  again,  he  said: 


56  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  Come,  out  with  that  box,"  and  he  continued  gesticu- 
lating and  striding  back  and  forth  through  the  room. 
"Who  has  charge  here — I  mean  who  takes  care  of  these 
traps?  Whoever  does  had  better  be  getting  them  out, 
and  that  mighty  soon,  or  they  go  into  the  street,"  and 
rushing  like  a  young  tornado  to  the  door,  called  loudly 
to  his  new  tenant,  who  was  at  that  moment  assisting  to 
put  the  coffin  in  the  old-fashioned,  square,  uncurtained 
hearse : 

"  Come  on  with  your  goods,  you  can  now  take  posses- 
sion.  It  is  now  half-past  three  o'clock,"  and  consulting 
his  gold  hunting -cased  watch,  knowing  better  than  his 
:new  tenant,  that  if  he  took  possession  before  four  o'clock 
he  could  claim  half-a-day's  rent.  Then  rushing  back  into 
the  room,  his  face  red  and  heated  with  the  excitement 
he  was  working  himself  into,  called  out  louder  than 
ever: 

"  Women,  just  three  minutes  more,  and  what  goods 
are  left  in  here,  will  go  into  the  street;  I  have  lost 
enough  by  those  poor,  miserable  wretches;  not  a  week 
passes  but  what  I  lose  two  or  three  days'  rent." 

During  this  tirade,  a  half  dozen  pairs  of  hands,  Min- 
nie's included,  were  busy  carrying  the  few  articles  of 
furniture  into  Jane's  room.  Jane  was  just  seeing  to 
the  safe  deposit  of  a  small  hair  trunk,  when  her  quick 
ear  caught  his  last  words,  and  setting  it  down,  she  drew 
from  her  pocket  an  envelope,  and  holding  it  up  triumph- 
antly, said,  with  an  air  strangely  at  variance  with  her 
gentle  nature: 

"  Sir,  you  have  never  lost  a  single  penny  by  the  poor 
^oman  whom  you  are  forcing  aws,y  to  the  grave  in  this 
onchristian-like  way ;  and  here  is  the  whole  amount  of 


ShK  ran  to  MEKT  minis' lie  I.HAVINC;  TOMMY  I^KANING  UP  AGAINST 

THK  SiDK  OF  THK  HOUSK.    See  page  49. 


A  STORY  OP  REAL  LIFE. 


67 


the  last  month's  rent,  which  is  not  due  for  three  days  yet; 
and  you  will  please  deduct  the  three  days,  taking  every 
cent  of  your  lawful  dues  and  return  the  balance  for  the 
use  of  the  motherless  child;  and  when  you  have 
received  that,  there  is  not  a  farthing  of  her  debts 
unpaid." 

Not  a  farthing  of  her  debts,  unpaid  eh?"  And  as 
he  repeated  Jane's  words,  he  counted  over  and  over  the 
small  sum  handed  him,  and  in  a  muttering  tone,  and 
air  of  resentment  for  her  "hateur^'^^  which  he  evi- 
dently felt  piqued  by.  "Not  a  farthing!  wonder  who 
has  been  so  generous  to  the  last?  Grand  fellow,  that; 
guess  she  has  been  sort  of  handsome,  but  fading  for  a 
long  time;  wonder  he  didn't  desert  her  before  this,"  and 
with  these  insulting  remarks,  he  handed  Jane  the  balance 
due  her,  and  strode  out  of  the  house  with  more  of  the 
air  of  a  lord  of  the  whole  realm,  than  the  owner  of  a  few 
old,  rickety  tenement  houses. 

Jane  felt  keenly  his  insulting  insinuations,  and  the 
bitter  retaliating  words  involuntarily  sprang  to  her  lips, 
but  found  no  utterance,  save  in  the  expression  of  her 
eyes.  She  could  not  desecrate  the  sacred  memory  of 
that  pure  woman  by  bandying  her  name  with  so  ignoble 
a  wretch  as  he  had  proven  himself  to  be. 

As  soon  as  the  goods  were  arranged  in  Jane's  room, 
and  Nellie,  although  having  quite  a  fever,  had  fallen 
asleep,  Minnie  felt  that  she  could  be  of  no  further  ser- 
vice, and  fearing  her  aunt  might  become  alarmed  at 
her  protracted  stay,  was  only  waiting  for  Jane's  return 
from  an  adjoining  room  before  taking  her  leave.  While 
she  stood  looking  at  tlie  sleeping  child,  she  ovB^- 
heard  Miss  Duncan  say  in  conversation  with  two  or 


58  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

three  women,  who  were  loitering  in  the  hall,  in  reply  to 
a  loud  whisper,  '""Who  is  she,  anyway?" 

"  O,  she  is  just  one  of  the  women  from  the  orphan V 
home;  she  is  going  to  take  the  child  there,  and  you 
know  they  get  places  for  them,  and  bind  them  out.  1 
guess  its  mighty  poor  homes  some  of  them  get,  and  I 
pity  the  poor  child  that  falls  into  their  hands." 

Tommy,  in  his  usual  attitude  of  hands  behind  him, 
standing  with  back  against  the  wall,  at  the  head  of  Nel- 
lie's bed,  heard  every  word  of  it,  and  Minnie  glancing 
up  saw  that  same  strange  expression  passing  over  his 
face,  and  going  up  quite  near  him,  she  said,  by  way  ot 
recognizing  his  right  to  stand  sentinel  over  the  sleep- 
ing child,  and  allay  his  fears  as  to  her  presence  there: 

"  I  must  be  going  now,  as  no  one  at  home  knows 
where  I  am.  I  started  out  for  a  short  walk,  and  a 
strange  fancy  led  me  out  in  this  direction.  I  saw  the 
little  girl  one  evening  at  my  uncle's,  and  she  recog- 
nized me  and  wished  me  to  come  in.  I  hope  you  will 
be  good  to  her,  and  I  will  call  and  see  you  again,  per- 
haps to-morrow,  for  I  shall  feel  anxious'  about  her." 

To  which  he  answered  up  in  his  best  way,  before  she 
had  fairly  concluded: 

"  No,  she  won't  be  sick  either;  and  if  she  is,  my 
grandmother  can  get  good  penorile  tea,  and  you  needn't 
trouble  to  come  back." 

She  saw  that  it  was  a  fruitless  attempt  to  secure  his 
friendship  in  this  way,  so  she  bade  him  good  day,  and 
was  hurrying  out,  when  Jane  called  after  her,  saying: 

"  O,  Miss,  I  was  in  hopes  you  would  stay  until  they 
were  all  gone;  I  wanted  to  talk  with  you  about  the 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE 


59 


child  and  her  mother.  Couldn't  yon  come  l3ack  some- 
time again?" 

"Oh,  yes;  I  just  told  the  lad  I  thought  I  wouW 
come  out  to-morrow;  for  I  am  anxious  about  the  chile' 
She  has  quite  a  fever.  Perhaps  it  is  from  excitement;  it 
so,  it  will  pass  off  after  she  is  rested.  It  seems  strange 
that  one  so  young  as  she,  should  realize  so  keenly  her 
loss." 

"  You  wouldn't  think  it  strange  if  you  knew  how 
many  talks  her  mother  had  with  her,  trying  to  have  her 
comprehend  all  about  death,  and  instructing  her  how  to 
live  a  good  and  true  life." 

"It  is  growing  late,"  said  Minnie,  "and,  deeply  as  I 
am  interested  in  the  child,  I  cannot  stay  longer,"  and 
repeating  her  promise  of  calling  again  soon,  she  tripped 
down  the  rickety  steps,  but  just  as  she  reached  the  pave- 
ment her  foot  turned,  and  she  jostled  against  a  man. 
Looking  up  with  an  apology,  she  met  the  motley  gray  eyes 
looking  through  the  long,  shaggy  brows  of  McClellan. 
Wondering  what  he  could  be  doing  in  that  part  of  the  city, 
she  hurried  on  past  the  old  tenement  houses  and  stately 
brown-stone  fronts  until  she  reached  her  uncle's  palatial 
residence,  so  strangely  in  contrast  with  the  "old 
broken  house"  she  had  just  left. 


CHAPTEE  V. 


THE  SNOW  STORM. 

Minnie  had  some  misgivings  about  her  proud  aunt's 
approving  of  lier  protracted  stay,  especially  when  she 
learned  that  she  had  been  attending  a  funeral  in  an  old 
tenement  house,  but  consoled  herself  that  her  objections 
could  not  be  great,  as  it  was  the  mother  of  the  child 
whom  she  had  permitted  to  sleep  in  Grandma's  room, 
and  at  the  liome  of  the  genteel  Jane,  who  had  been  such 
efficient  help  during  the  week  of  preparation  for  the 
wedding.  She  remembered  of  hearing  her  speak  more 
than  once  highly  of  her;  but  she  was  relieved  from  re- 
hearsing her  day's  adventure  that  night,  for  she  was  in- 
formed by  tliQ  hall  girl,  that  her  aunt  had  company,  and 
they  were  then  at  the  dinner  table,  and  that  she  wished 
her  to  come  immediately  down,  without  waiting  to 
arrange  her  toilet,as  they  were  country  friends,and  would 
not  notice  her  dress. 

She  was  introduced  by  her  aunt,  with  an  apology  for 
appearing  in  her  street  dress.  "  She  has  been  out,"  she 
said,  "  for  a  walk,  to  drive  off  a  fit  of  eiinui^  and  I  hope 
she  has  succeeded,  as  it  makes  one  so  very  disagreeable 
while  the  fit  is  on;  for  my  part,  I  am  never  troubled 
that  way,  and  my  Nellie  never  is,  either.  I  could  not 
live  through  many  such  fits  with  my  poor^  weak  nerves  f 

"Ah!  has  fits,  does  she?"  said  the  old  gentleman 
of  the  company,  looking  up  with  an  inquiring  ex. 
pression  at  Minnie.    "  Mother,"  said  he,  turning  to  one 

60 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


61 


of  the  women,  "  that's  what  was  the  matter  with  my 
cousin  John,  and  it  hurt  his  mind  dreadfully.  You 
know,  mother,  he  became  foolish,  and  finally  died  in 
the  poor-house;  but  she  looks  healthy,  and  no  one  would 
think  of  her  ever  coming  to  such  a  sad  end,"  and  he 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  surveyed  the  highly-amused 
girl  for  what  appeared  to  her,  fully  five  minutes;  then, 
with  an  audible  groan,  said,  God's  ways  are  very  mys- 
terious, and  we  just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is.  Poor 
child,  poor  child!    I  do  pity  her." 

Minnie,  who  could  endure  it  no  longer,  was  obliged 
to  plead  a  headache  and  be  excused,  that  she  might  seek 
a  place  to  give  vent  to  her  extreme  amusement. 

"Now,  father,  just  see  what  you  have  gone  and  done. 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  would  have  a  fit  now.  Didn't 
you  see  how  r^d  and  swelled  like  her  face  looked  as  she 
went  out.  You  must  be  more  keerful  when  such 
deformed  people  are  about,  and  not  talk  right  out  before 
them.  I'm  a  mind  to  go  right  after  her  and  see  if  she 
isn't  in  one  now.  What  do  you  do  for  her,  Cristine?" 
she  said,  turning  to  Mrs.  Baldwin;  to  which  that  lady 
replied,  with  an  expression  upon  her  face  which  her 
friend  mistook  for  anxiety:  "The  girls  will  attend  to 
her  if  she  needs  attention." 

Mrs.  Baldwin  was  of  that  peculiar  disposition  that 
what  would  convulse  others  with  laughter  took  the 
form  of  disgust  with  her,  and,  as  she  was  not  over-well 
pleased  to  receive  a  visit  from  those  who  had  been  her 
friends  when  a  school-girl,  she  was  more  careful  not 
to  appear  very  cheerful  or  very  familiar,  lest  she  might 
encourage  their  stay,  and  a  repetition  of  the  visit:  but 
for  the  sake  of  the  report  they  might  carry  back  to 


62  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Broadtop,  the  village  in  Pennsylvania  where  she  was 
born  and  raised,  she  felt  obliged  to  treat  them  with  some 
show  of  courtesy.  The  old  lady  looked  at  her  for  a 
moment  in  silence,  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  she  continued 
"  Cristine,  it  must  be  a  dreadful  tax  on  you.  I  don't 
wonder  your  narves  are  poor  and  weak  like.  Does  she 
have  them  often?  I  should  think  her  mother  would 
be  oneasy  to  have  her  away  from  her;  but  I  s'pose  she 
knows  she  is  in  good  hands." 

Mrs.  Baldwin  knew  from  the  first  that  they  did  not 
get  her  real  meaning,  and  it  was  more  indifference  on 
her  part  than  from  a  desire  to  deceive  them  in  regard 
to  Minnie's  health,  that  she  did  not  explain  more  fully. 

As  Minnie  entered  the  hall  after  her  hasty  exit  from 
the  table  she  saw  Uncle  Ned,  who  had  just  entered,  he 
having  been  detained  by  business  later  than  usual.  She 
ran  to  him,  saying,  between  hysterical  outbursts,  "  O, 
Uncle,  do  come  into  the  library,  while  I  tell  you  some- 
thing so  ridiculous  that  I  believe  I  shall  die,^^  and  she 
pressed  her  hand  to  her  sides,  the  tears  rolling  down 
her  cheeks  in  the  vain  attempt  to  relate  the  story  of  the 
fits.  Uncle  Ned  stood  watching  a-nd  waiting  for  her  to 
become  composed  enough  to  relate  what  was  "  so  ridic- 
ulous,^^ until  he  caught  the  spirit  of  her  laughter,  and 
as  he  afterwards  said,  fairly  went  into  convulsions  him- 
self. 

At  last,  interspersed  with  peals  of  laughter  from  both 
parties,  the  story  was  told. 

"  O,  Uncle,  he  is  the  funniest  little  man,  and  there  are 
two  women.  One  is  a  little,  short,  fat  woman,  with  a  short 
dress  and  a  great  white  lace  collar,  and  a  white  cap  with 
a  frill;,  it  is  real  full  at  tlie  sides,  plain  on  the  top,  and  a 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


63 


great  purple  bow  on  the  top,  too.  The  other  is  tall,  and, 
0  so  slender,  with  a  great  red  bow  waving  in  the  air 
on  the  top  of  her  head;  she  is  very  prim,  and  has  a  reg- 
ular '  weasen  face,'  if  you  know  what  that  is.  It  is  like 
this,"  trying  to  draw  in  and  elongate  her  plump,  round 
cheeks,  arching  her  nose  down  and  drawing  her  chin  up. 

"O,  you  saucy  little  chick,"  said  Uncle  Ned,  giving 
her  a  tap  with  his  fingers  on  her  rosy  cheeks.  Don't 
make  me  laugh  any  more  or  I'll  not  get  to  the  dinner 
table  in  time  to  meet  them,"  so  straightening  out  his 
face  as  well  as  he  could,  he  marched  hastily  off'  to  meet 
his  guests. 

Earlier  than  usual  next  morning  Minnie  was  aroused 
by  a  gentle  knock  at  her  door,  Janet  having  come  with 
a  message  from  Mrs.  Baldwin,  saying  she  was  quite 
indisposed,  and  wished  her  to  come  to  her  room  before 
going  down  to  breakfast.  On  answering  the  summons, 
she  found  her  indisposed  "  aunt  bolstered  up  in  bed, 
devouring  the  contents  of  a  well-filled  tray.  Her  first 
words  on  seeing  Minnie  were,  "  O,  Minnie,  my  poor 
weak  nerves  have  undergone  such  a  shock.  Just  think 
of  those  people  coming  just  now,  of  all  times,  when  I  am 
clear  worn  out  and  need  quiet  and  rest  so  much.  I  can't 
think  how  they  ever  happened  to  come  here.  Why,  I 
haven't  thought  of  them  for  years,  and  was  in  hopes 
they  had  forgotten  me." 

"  Why,  Aunty,  I  thought  they  were  your  relatives^^ 
said  Minnie,  more  in  jest  than  earnest. 

"  Well,  they  are  '  distant but  what  of  that?  Such 
people  are  always  putting  themselves  in  somebody's 
way.  Mr.  Geddiz  is  my  mother's  brother;  but  even 
that  only  makes  him  my  uncle,  and  of  course  his 


wife  thinks  she  is  my  aunt.    The  other  one  is  her 

sister,  who  knew  me  when  I  was  a  mere  child.  Since 
Mother's  death  I  ha^^e  tried  to  ^  cut '  the  whole  tribe  of 
them;  but  there  is  no  use,  they  can't  take  the  hint,  and 
I  dare  not  be  rude,  as  they  might  injure  me  by  their 
telling  horrible  stories  about  me.  But  the  long  and 
short  of  It  is,  I  cannot  see  them  this  morning,  and  I 
shall  not.  I  want  you  to  entertain  them  till  I  get  my 
nerves  quieted.  Send  Janet  for  the  tray,  and  do  not 
let  them  know  where  my  room  is,  or  they  will  be  right 
in  here.  You  can  take  them  over  the  house,  and  tell 
them  of  Nellie's  elegant  wedding,  and  how  she  was 
dressed.  Tell  them  of  her  presents,  and  be  sure  that 
the  old  maid,  the  one  with  the  red  ribbon  on  her  head, 
hears  all  you  say,  and  sees  all  the  silver  and  china,  and 
every  other  nice  thing  in  the  house.  I  just  want  them 
to  know  that  Cristine  McFadden,  can  be  somebody  as 
well  as  any  of  them.  Now  you  can  go,"  she  continued, 
but  don't,  whatever  you  do,  let  them  know  where  I 
am." 

Notwithstanding  the  day  previous  had  been  warm 
and  pleasant,  there  had  been  a  change  during  the  night. 
The  storm  king  was  abroad  in  all  his  wild  fury,  and  the 
great  flakes  of  snow  were  whirling  thick  and  fast  in  wild 
confusion,  piling  up  in  fantastic  drifts  —  barring  up 
doors  and  windows.  The  streets  seemed  deserted,  save 
here  and  there  a  lone  pedestrian  hurrying  along  with 
muffled-up  heaS  and  ears,  fighting  his  way  through  the 
pelting  storm.  Minnie  walked  to  the  window,  and 
thought  of  the  poor,  sick  child,  and  of  the  new-made 
p^i-ave  hid  away  beneath  the  snow,  and  she  knew  to  ven- 
iuvo  out  would  be  imprudence  in  the  extreme,  and  yet, 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


66 


ehe  thought,  "  I  told  them  I  would  come,  but  they  will 
not  surely  expect  me  in  this  fearful  storm;  but,"  she 
reasoned,  ''what  if  she  is  very  sick.  If  so,  I  ought  to  be 
there;"  and  she  stood  a  long  time  looking  out  seeing 
nothing,  hearing  nothing.  At  length,  rousing  herself 
up,  she  said,  half  aloud,  ''  Why  do  I  take  such  an  inter- 
est in  her?  What  could  I  do  if  she  should  be  very  sick? 
I  have  been  haunted  by  her  presence  ever  since  I  first 
met  her,  and  I  shall  soon  begin  to  think  Jane's  theory 
a  true  one — 'that  the  dear  departed  spirit  is  guiding 
me  to  her,' — No,  no.  I'll  not  think  that,  strange  as  it 
appears,"  and  she  strove  to  banish  all  thoughts  of  the 
child,  and  abandon  the  idea  of  going  out,  even  should 
the  storm  subside,  and  forthwith  set  herself  about  enter- 
taining the  guests  of  her  Aunt,  as  best  she  could,  fol- 
lowing out  the  instructions  given  her  as  nearly  as 
possible. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Geddiz  manifested  great  concern  about 
Cristine's  sudden  illness,  Mrs.  Geddiz  asking  more  than 
once  if  she  shouldn't  go  and  try  to  do  something  for 
her — bathe  her  feet  or  make  her  some  good  "yarb 
tea."  But  Minnie,  acting  under  instructions,  said  she 
thought  rest  would  do  her  more  good  than  anything 
else;  this  remark  opening  the  way  for  her  to  tell  them 
of  the  great  wedding. 

"  Well,  well,  I  do  say,"  said  the  old  gentleman,  when 
she  had  concluded,  raising  up  from  his  chair  and  trying 
to  shake  down  the  wide,  short  legs  of  his  light-brown 
pantaloons.  "  That's  something  different  from  her  own 
wedding.  Isn't  it  Mother?"  Bat  Mother  seemed  td 
be  absorbed  in  her  own  thoughts,  and  answered  rather 
Jite^ntly,  "  Yes*,  it         WhUe  Mim  Price^  the  maiden 

6 


6d  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

la.dy,  gave  her  head  a  little  toss,  which  set  her  red  ribbons 
to  fluttering,  and  putting  on  a  sickly  smile,  which  was 
intended  to  convey  full  as  much  meaning  as  her  words 
said:     I  should  think  it  tvas.^^ 

"  O,  well,"  said  Mr.  Geddiz,  walking  back  and  forth 
across  the  room,  "  God's  ways  are  very  mysterious,  and 
as  I  said  before,  we'll  just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is, 
and  if  he  leads  ns  into  green  pastures,  I  'spose  our  best 
plan  is  to  eat  all  we  can,  and  if  He  chooses  to  take  us 
into  a  field  where  the  grass  is  poor  and  scarce,  we'll  just 
have  to  nibble  around  and  do  the  best  we  can  and  be 
contented,  for  when  the  storms  of  winter  come,  He'll 
take  us  all  into  the  same  warm  shelter,  and  we'll  forget 
all  about  our  summer's  feed." 

"Jonathan  Geddiz,  that  will  do  for  you  to  talk 
about,"  said  Miss  Price,  rather  curtly,  "  but  for  my  part 
I  would  like  a  little  of  the  clove?'  as  I  go  along,  even  if 
I  had  to  take  a  cooler  place  at  last.  I  like  to  see  things 
a  little  more  evenly  divided,  and  justice  done  to  those 
who  are  worthy  as  others,  and  I  can't  understand  all 
these  mysterious  things  as  you  think  you  do,  but  I  do 
know  what  /  think  is  right,  and  if  some  person  doesn't 
get  crowded  out  into  a  cold  corner  when  the  winter  that 
you  talk  about  comes,  it  will  be  because  Adaline  Price 
liasn't  strength  enough  to  do  it,  so  there^'^  and  she  turned 
away  with  an  air  of  scorn. 

"Heigho!  You're  not  getting  huffy,  are  yon  Ada- 
line?  "  I'd  like  to  know  what  I've  said  to  rouse  you  so. 
I  thought  you  always  claimed  you  could  have  had  Ned 
Baldwin's  green  pasture  it  you  wanted  it,  so  don't  go  to 
fretting  at  this  late  day;"  And  the  old  gentleman  quick- 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LiFE. 


ened  his  pace,  as  he  saw  he  had  aroused  the  sleeping 
tiger  in  Miss  Adaline's  breast. 

'^Tliere  now,  Johatlian,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  rousing 
from  her  apparent  indifference  to  the  conversation. 
"  You  liad  better  stop  right  tliere.  You  know  that  thafs 
passed  years  ago^  so  let  by-gones  be  by-gones,  as  the 
preacher,  or  some  other  person  has  wisely  said.  Cristine 
is  all  right  now  I  'spose,  if  she  was  a  wild  girl  and 
came  nigh  unter  goin'  to  ruin  and  did  that  awful 
thing,  for  the  sake  of  getting  Ned  Baldwin  away  from 
Adaline,  and  perhaps  he  has  got  to  liking  her  some 
before  this  time;  but  that's  neither  here  nor  there,  we 
are  in  lier  house  and  partaking  of  her — her — well  you 
know  what  I  mean.  I'll  just  say,  for  it's  all  the  same — 
bread  and  butter,  and  I  think  when  we  sit  dow^n  and  eat 
and  drink  with  a  person  at  their  own  table,  that  it  is 
more  than  wicked  to  talk  about  them  or  harbor  old 
grudges.  I  would  bury  the  hatchet,  or  go  home  if  I 
was  you,  Adaline  Price,  that's  all  I  have  to  say  about 
the  matter." 

The  bell  rang  for  lunch,  and  this  conversation  came 
to  an  end.  As  they  were  going  into  the  lunch  room, 
Mrs.  Geddiz,  who  had  been  casting  anxious  glances  at 
Minnie  all  the  morning,  came  up  close  to  her,  and  said 
in  a  motherly  vray: 

"  How  do  yo'ii  feel  to-day?  Have  you  had  any  more 
tits  since  last  x^iight?" 

Minnie  ans"»vered  that  she  was  quite  well,  and  did  not 
anticipate  their  return;  thinking  that  as  Jier  aunt  had 
made  no  explanation  to  them,  that  it  was  just  as  well 
not  to  undertahe  it  herself,  fearing  there  might  be  a 


68  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

regular  outbreak  against  Cristine  for  the  deception  they 
would  think  she  had  practiced  upon  them. 

One  o'clock  came,  and  the  storm,  which  had  been 
raging  all  the  forenoon,  had  abated,  or,  as  it  afterwards 
proved,  was  only  resting  to  gather  up  its  spent  forces 
for  a  more  fearful  onslaught. 

The  sun  shone  out  from  behind  the  rifted  clouds, 
and  the  soft,  fleecy  snow  began  to  soften,  and  dissolve 
beneath  its  rays.  Minnie  felt  a  fluttering  joy  at  her 
heart,  and  with  it  came  thoughts  of  the  little  orphan 
child,  and  a  longing  desire  to  go  to  her,  but  how  could 
she  leave?  Her  aunt  had  not  yet  appeared,  and  until 
she  did,  the  duty  of  hostess  devolved  upon  her,  but  she 
was  soon  relieved  from  what  was  to  her  rather  an  irk- 
some task. 

Mr.  Geddiz,  coming  into  the  room  with  his  face  rad- 
ient  with  delight,  said: 

"Well,  girls,  the  storm  is  over;  just  see  how  fine  it 
is  out.  Come,  get  on  your  thick  shawls,  and.  Mother, 
you  better  just  put  on  a  pair  of  my  woolen  socks  over 
your  shoes,  for  it  is  a  little  slushy  under  foot,  or  will  be 
soon  if  the  sun  keeps  out,  and  we  will  sally  forth  and 
see  some  of  the  sights;  and  you  too^  little  one,"  said  he, 
addressing  Minnie,  ''or  an't  you  well  enough  to  go  out 
such  a  day  as  this?  Is  there  any  danger  of  bringing 
on — on — any  sickness,  or  anything  of  that  kind!" 

Minnie  assured  him  that  there  was  no  danger,  but 
excused  herself  by  saying: 

"  I  have  a  sick  friend  I  would  like  to  visit,  and  pre- 
sume she  is  expecting  me,  as  i  promised  tc  visit  her 
this  morning,  and  while  you  are  out,  I  will  run  down 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


6^ 


and  Bee  lier,  unless,"  she  added,  "  I  can  be  of  service  to 
you  in  finding  places  where  you  wish  to  visit?" 

"  O,  no,  thank  you,"  he  replied,  "  we  have  no  particu- 
lar place  that  we  are  to  go;  we  just  want  to  see,  and  we 
can  pilot  ourselves  around,  and  haul  up  here  along 
to'ards  night;  you  can't  lose  me  no  place;  I  never  was 
easy  lost." 

"  O,  no  thank  you,  child,"  chimed  in  the  old  lady,  as 
she  drew  on  the  blue  woolen  socks,  "  we  have  no  need 
of  a  guide  when  Father  is  along;  you  go  right  along,  and 
see  after  your  sick  friend.    Is  she  a  man  or  a  woman?'' 

"  Not  either,  it  is  a  little  child — a  little  girl  whose 
mother  was  buried  yesterday,"  answered  Minnie  in  a 
quiet  way,  as  she  stood  waiting  for  the  lady  to  put  on 
her  things. 

At  Minnie's  answer  she  started  a  little,  and  said: 
She  hain't  got  any  catching  disease,  has  she?  You 
might  bring  it  home  in  your  clothes,  and  then  I  might 
take  it  home  to  little  Jonathan.  That's  our  grandson, 
our  Elijah's  baby,  and  I  never  could  forgive  myself  for 
coming  here  if  1  did,  'specially,  if  he  should  die  from 
the  effects  of  it;  we  have  all  got  our  hesiYts  dreadfully 
sot  on  that  child,  you  see,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he 
died  sometime  just  on  that  account;  they  most  alvi^ays 
do,  'specially  when  they  are  uncommon  smart,  and  he  is 
very  uncommon  smart  for  his  age.  O,  dear,"  she 
sighed,  while  great  tears  gathered  into  her  eyes,  "  it 
seems  to  me  I  never  can  go  home  from  here  and  find 
his  little  place  vacant,  and  a  new  little  grave  over  in 
the  graveyard.  Just  think,  Father,"  said  she,  address- 
ing him,  as  he  stood  waiting  for  them,  ''we  have  been 
gone  from  home  nigh  on  to  two  weeks,  and  there  is  no 


70 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


telling  what  all  has  happened  while  we  have  been 
around  from  place  to  place  having  such  good  times." 

The  old  man  walked  slowly  away,  with  head  dropped 
forward,  and  a  sad  look  upon  his  face  as  he  said,  "  That's 
so.  Mother,  God's  ways  are  very  mysterious;  but  then 
we'll  just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is.  But  come,"  he 
said,  turning  quickly  back  towards  her,  "  we  are  losing 
time;  it's  half-past  one  now."  But  the  old  lady  was 
not  quite  through.  She  had  noticed  Minnie  looking  in 
a  quizzical  way  at  the  gray  socks,  and  felt  that  some 
explanation  must  be  made.  "  You  see,  child,  I  always 
wear  them  in  sich  weather,  to  keep  me  from  slipping, 
besides,  they  are  dreadful  comfortable  in  a  deep  snow. 
JSTo^v,  Father,"  said  she,  rising,  "  I  am  all  ready." 

"  Be  you  sure  you  are  all  ready  nowf^^  said  John- 
athan,  as  he  opened  the  door  to  let  the  prim  Adaline 
and  his  robust  little  wife  pass  out. 

The  door  closed,  and  they  were  gone,  and  Minnie 
thought  best  to  inform  her  aunt  of  the  fact,  as  well  as 
to  communicate  to  her  the  adventures  of  the  day  previ- 
ous, and  let  her  know  that  she  was  about  to  repeat  her 
visit  to  the  home  of  Jane  Coil,  and,  with  this  in  view, 
hastened  to  her  room,  but  was  surprised  to  find  it  vacant, 
and  her  aunt's  easy  dress  thrown  carelessly  on  a  chair. 
She  went  in  search  of  Janet,  who  informed  her  that 
Mrs.  Baldwin  had  gone  out  in  her  sleigh,  having  an 
engagement  to  lunch  with  a  friend,  and  had  left  word 
that  if  it  cleared  she  should,  in  company  with  her  friend, 
put  in  the  afternoon  riding  and  shopping,  in  prefer- 
ence, as  she  had  said  to  Janet — who  had  been  in  the 
family  so  many  years,  and  who  prided  herself  as  almost 
indispensable  in  the  household  arrangements,  and  had 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


grown  to  be  more  of  a  confidential  friend  than  a  servant 
to  Mrs.  Baldwin — to  spending  lier  time  with  those 
ignorant  old  people,"  and  to  escape  their  notice  had 
gone  out  of  a  side  entrance. 

Janet  made  no  comments,  for  she  seldom  tran- 
scended her  proper  bounds,  and  she  looked  earnestly 
into  Minnie's  face,  as  if  to  read  her  thoughts;  but  it 
mattered  not  what  Minnie's  convictions  were  in  regard 
to  her  aunt's  real  motives,  prudence  directed  the  wiser 
course  to  be  pursued,  and  she  turned  away,  saying,  half 
aloud,  ''Poor,  dear  woman.  I  am  afraid  she  will  in- 
crease her  illness  by  her  imprudence.  Slie  is  so  very 
self-sacrificing,  to  try  to  fulfill  an  engagement  wlien  so 
miserable,  just  to  save  others  from  disappointment." 
But  ere  she  had  finished  the  last  sentence  she  was  too 
far  away  to  hear  Janet's  rather  uncharitable  remark, 
"  Yes,  she  is  just  self-sacrificing  enough  to  barter  her 
right  of  truth  and  honor  for  a  mess  of  pottage,  and  a 
very  sinall  mess  at  tlmt.  Self-sacrificing;  bah!  When 
the  little  lady  knows  her  as  long  as  I  have  she'll  know 
more  about  '  the  poor,  dear  woman '  than  she  does  now, 
and  I  am  perfectly  willing  she  should." 

The  truth  of  the  matter  was  that  Janet  had  become 
so  thoroughly  disgusted  with  the  deceptive  traits  of 
Mrs.  Baldwin's  character,  which  were  almost  daily 
brought  to  her  notice,  that  she  w^as  beginning  to  lose  all 
respect,  regarding  her  as  designing  and  unprincipled, 
and  one  who  had  no  conscientious  scruples  to  prevent 
her  from  carrying  out  any  plan  to  further  her  own 
selfish  ends. 

Minnie  being  left  alone  to  act  as  she  chose,  donned 
her  waterproof  and  overshoes,  and  started  out  on  her 


72  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

mission  of  mercy,  not  realizing  that  it  was  such,  only 
thinking  she  was  going  to  gratify  the  longing  desires 
of  her  own  heart.  Will  it  not  be  recognized  as  such  by 
the  Une  who,  centuries  ago,  said,  "  Inasmuch  as  ye  have 
done  it  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these,  ye  have  done  it 
unto  Me?" 


She  said  in  a  motherly  way,  "have  you  had  any  fits  since 
LAST  night?  "   See  page  67. 


ch\ptee  yi. 


TOMMY  AS  NURSE. 

One  hour  later,  when  Minnie  entered  the  room,  she 
found  little  Nellie  where  she  had  left  her  the  night 
before.  She  found,  too,  that  she  was  really  ill;  her  face 
fairly  purple  with  fever,  and  she  was  restlessly  tossing 
and  moaning.  Tommy  was  no  longer  against  the  wall, 
but  was  busy  dipping  a  clean  white  cloth  into  a  bowl  of 
water,  with  which  he  was  bathing  her  face  and  hands. 
He  seemed  so  much  absorbed  in  his  work  of  love  and 
mercy  that  he  did  not  appear  conscious  of  the  presence 
of  Minnie,  who  had  gone  forward  and  was  standing  by 
his  side,  but  on  looking  up  and  seeing  her,  he  exclaimed* 
"Oh!  I  thought  it  was  Jane  standing  there.  She 
wanted  me  to  do  this  while  she  went  to  the  grocery 

"  The  dear  child  is  quite  sick,  isn't  she? "  said  Minnie. 
"Was  she  as  sick  as  this  all  night,  and  have  you  had  a 
doctor?'' 

"  Yes,"  said  Tommy,  "  she  was  real  sick  all  night. 
We  had  Dr.  Bein  here  early  this  morning,  and  he  was 
here  again  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  said  he  would  be  here 
at  four  this  afternoon."  And  with  a  choking  sound  in 
his  voice,  he  said:    "The  doctor  says  she  is  very  sick." 

Minnie  consulted  her  watch,  and  found  that  it  was 
only  a  few  minutes  past  three,  nearly  a  whole  hour  yet 
before  he  would  be  there,  and  feeling  that  her  assist- 
ance would  be  needed,  she  laid  aside  her  wraps,  saying: 


74  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"I  will  relieve  you,  my  little  man.    Ton  must  be 
tired,  let  me  take  your  place,"  which  he  ratlier  reluc 
lantly  yielded, as  she  said:  "  Did  you  and  Jane  take  care 
of  her  all  night  alone?    If  so,  you  must  be  very  weary 
and  need  rest." 

^'  Yes,"  said  he,  in  his  old  pert  way,  as  he  settled  back 
against  the  wall,  "  we  did,  and  I  ain't  a  bit  tired,  either." 

Minnie  began  to  realize  that  his  pert  manners  and  the 
word  either,"  were  intended  to  convey  to  her  his  utter 
disapprobation  of  her  proffered  aid  and  friendship.  But 
he  was  a  child,  and  to  her  a  strange  enigma,  so  she  paid 
no  attention  to  it,  but  set  to  work  to  relieve,  if  possible, 
the  little  sufferer. 

In  a  few  minutes  Jane  entered,  and  showed  the  pleas- 
ure she  felt,  in  her  brightened  eyes,  to  find  Minnie  there. 
Pressing  her  hand  warmly,  she  said:  "  I  had  hoped 
you  would  come,  but  it  stormed  so  fearfully  all  the 
morning  that  I  could  scarcely  hope.  The  poor  child 
has  been  so  sick  all  the  time  since  you  were  here  that  I 
scarcely  dared  to  trust  myself  to  take  care  of  her  alone." 
And  then  remembering  that  Tommy  was  present,  she 
said:  "  If  it  had  not  been  for  Tommy  I  do  not  know 
how  1  should  have  got  along,  he  has  been  so  kind  and 
so  useful,  has  proved  himself  quite  a  nurse." 

"I'm  not  no  nurse,  either,"  quickly  spoke  the  boy; 
but  as  if  suddenly  remembering  that  it  was  Jane,  instead 
of  Minnie  whom  he  was  addressing,  he  said,  in  softened 
tones,  "  I  haven't  done  very  much,  because  I  didn't 
know  how." 

But  taking  no  heed  of  wh^t  he  was  saying,  Jane  con- 
tinued :  The  poor  child  hasn't  seemed  to  notice  or  know 
any  of  us  since  she  was  brought  in  here  yesterday." 


A  STORY  OF  BEAL  LIFE. 


75 


Taking  a  spoonful  of  liquid  from  a  glass,  she  put  it 
to  Nellie's  fever-parched  lips,  saying:  "It  is  time  to 
take  this  now.  Come,  little  darling,"  but  a  restless  roll- 
ing of  the  head  and  a  pitiful  little  moan  was  all  the 
sign  she  gave  of  knowing  that  anything  was  wanted  of 
her.  Jane  turned  away  with  a  sigh,  laid  down  the 
spoon  in  a  despairing  manner,  and  said,  "  /  do  wish  Dr. 
Bein  would  come." 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered  when  the  opening 
and  closing  of  the  hall  door,  and  the  stamping  of  snow 
from  his  feet,  gave  warning  that  the  desired  person  had 
arrived. 

He  entered  the  room  with  soft  steps,  divested  of  coat 
and  hat,  and  giving  a  hasty  glance  at  the  faces  turned 
toward  him,  each  expressing  the  anxiety  they  felt  for 
the  little  sufferer.  After  warming  his  hands  as  well  as  he 
could  by  the  low  fire  in  the  little  cooking  stove,  he 
approached  the  bed.  Seating  himself  upon  its  side,  he 
took  the  little  burning  hand  in  his,  counted  the  fluttering 
pulse,  then  laying  his  hand  tenderly  upon  the  restless, 
rolling  head,  he  seemed  to  be  in  a  perplexed  study. 
Minnie  watched,  as  did  the  other  two,  the  perplexed 
expression  on  his  face  in  almost  breathless  silence,  he 
seeming  for  a  time  almost  oblivious  of  their  presence. 
Then  suddenly  starting  up,  he  walked  hastily  back  and 
forth  across  the  room,  with  head  bent  forward,  in  a 
thoughtful  mood.  At  length,  going  up  to  Tommy,  who 
had  taken  his  old  position  against  the  wall,  he  asked  him 
to  bring  him  a  cup  of  water  and  a  spoon.  After  pre- 
paring a  mixture,  he  raised  her  head  gently,  and  with 
kind  words,  succeeded  in  arousing  her  sufficiently  to 
take  it.    As  she  made  an  effort  to  swallow,  her  great 


76  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

blue  eyes,  with  a  mournful  expression,  looked  up  into 
his  face  and  fastened  their  gaze  there  for  a  moment,  as 
if  trying  to  realize  where  she  was.  Then  she  said  in  a 
faint  voice,  so  faint  that  the  doctor  was  obliged  to  bend 
his  head  forward  until  it  nearly  touched  her's,  to  catch 
her  words — 

"  How  is  mamma  tO;day?" 

He  answered  her  kindly  that  her  mamma  was  better, 
then  placing  both  hands  under  her  as  tenderly  as  a 
mother,  lifted  her  over  to  a  cool  place  in  the  bed,  and 
turning  over  her  pillow,  said,  "  Now,  my  little  girl,  can 
you  go  to  sleep  again,"  and,  with  a  changed  expression, 
which  was  nearly  akin  to  pleasure,  he  gave  Jane  some 
directions  about  the  medicines,  and,  turning  to  Tommy, 
said,  "  Come  with  me  a  moment,''  and  after  talking  with 
him  a  moment  in  the  hall,  the  door  closed,  and  he  was 
gone. 

When  Tommy  returned  he  placed  a  bill  in  J ane's 
hand,  saying,  "  The  doctor  says  to  use  this  for  whatever 
you  need,  and  he  will  send  us  some  coal." 

Jane  took  the  money,  and,  while  the  tears  rolled  down 
her  pale  face,  she  said,  "  May  the  good  Father  bless  that 
man  in  his  basket  and  in  his  store,  and  may  he  never 
know  what  it  is  to  want,  as  we  should,  were  it  not  for 
his  good,  kind  heart  and  generous  acts." 

During  the  hour  or  more  in  which  Minnie  had  been 
wholly  absorbed  in  the  scenes  of  the  sick  room,  the  storm 
had  returned  in  all  its  fury,  and  the  wind  was  shrieking 
around,  rattling  the  doors  and  windows  of  the  old  tene- 
ment house,  and  making  it  a  dismal  place,  even  for  less 
anxious  hearts,  and  she  began  to  feel  some  alarm  about 
getting  home.    It  was  growing  dark,  with  the  storm 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


77 


and  the  lateness  of  the  hour  combined ;  so,  as  soon  as 
the  doctor  was  gone,  she  began  to  gather  up  her  things, 
preparatory  to  putting  them  on,  and  Jane  regretted  her 
lack  of  thought  in  not  asking  the  doctor  to  take  her  in 
his  sleigh,  but  Minnie  said,  "  It's  all  right.  I  shall  get 
along  nicely,  as  I  do  not  fear,  and  am  come  prepared; 
but  1  am  sorry  they  do  not  know  at  home  where  I  am, 
or  I  would  remain  with  you  over  night." 

As  Dr.  Bein  closed  the  hall  door  after  him,  a  man 
wrapped  closely  in  a  long,  blue  overcoat,  with  cape, 
came  hastily  out  from  the  shelter  of  the  house,  and 
before  the  doctor  could  reach  his  horse,  had  it  unfast- 
ened and  the  lines  gathered  up,  and  as  he  handed  them 
to  the  doctor,  he  said: 

"  Is  there  some  one  sick  in  this  house?" 

To  which  the  doctor  answered,  as  he  shook  the  snow 
from  the  cushions  and  robe: 

"  Yes,  a  child." 

"  Much  sick?"  said  the  man,  with  perceptible  anxiety 
in  his  tone  of  voice,  while  he  tucked  the  robe  close  to 
the  doctor's  body  and  limbs. 

"  Yes,  quite  sick — brain  fever.  Thank  you  tor  your 
kindness ;  this  is  a  fearful  storm  to  be  out  in,  for  man 
or  beast,"  and  with  a'' get-up,  Bounis,"  which  the  animal 
well  understood,  went  dashing  away  in  the  storm, 
while  the  man  threw  the  great  cape  about  his  head,  for 
the  wind  was  rising  and  the  sleet  dashing  wildly  about, 
shrank  back  to  his  place  of  shelter,  and  stood  as  if  he 
w^as  a  sentinel  placed  there  to  protect  the  old  rickety 
liouse  from  the  ravages  of  the  gale. 

In  a  moment  more,  Minnie,  who  had  promised  to 
return  the  following  day,  prepared  to  remain  longer, 


78  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

aaving  kissed  the  little  fever-l^eated  forehead,  and  lips, 
M\d  folded  the  burning  hands  within  her  own  in  an  affec- 
tionate way,  passed  out  of  the  room,  closing  the  door 
after  her  softly.  Reaching  the  outer  door,  she  paused 
and  looked  out  at  the  drifting  snow  and  pelting  sleet, 
as  if  shrinking  from  the  almost  perilous  task  of  ventur- 
ing out.  But  it  was  growing  late,  and  no  one  at  home 
knew  where  she  was,  and  no  prospect  of  the  storm  abat- 
ing, so  she  rallied  her  courage  and  stepped  cautiously 
down  on  to  the  pavement,  and  started  on  her  way  home. 
She  saw  the  man  closely  muffled^  sheltered  by  the 
house,  but  thought  nothing  of  it.  The  fierce  wind  was 
coming  in  the  opposite  direction  to  which  she  was 
going,  and  she  battled  hard,  making  but  little  progress; 
and  she  was  obliged  to  turn  about  frequently  to  take 
breath,  and  wipe  the  sleet  from  her  face,  and  in  so  doing 
she  discov^ered  hurrying  on  toward  her  a  man,  whom 
she  thought  was  the  same  one  she  had  seen  as  she  came 
out  of  the  old  house,  but  not  thinking  of  his  following 
her,  was  surprised,  when  on  coming  up  to  her,  he 
stopped  and  addressed  her  in  a  familiar  way,  saying: 

I  think.  Miss,  you  are  losing  your  way.  You  ought 
to  have  turned  at  the  street  below.  I  will  walk  back 
with  you  if  you  have  no  objection,  as  I  may  be  able  to 
render  you  some  assistance  through  these  high  drifts 
that  the  wind  has  driven  around  the  corner." 

Minnie  had  taken  no  notice  whither  she  was  going, 
and  had  not  observed  that  she  was  out  of  her  way  until 
informed  of  it  by  the  man,  having  gone  almost  a 
square  beyond  the  street  where  she  should  have  turned. 
She  quickly  turned  to  retrace  her  steps,  wondering 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


79 


meanwhile,  how  he  knew  what  street  she  should  have 
taken,  and  with  a  thank  you,"  intended  to  serve  the 
double  purpose  of  gratefulness  for  service  rendered  and 
for  proffered  help.  As  she  hurried  away,  she  was 
impressed  with  a  sense  of  certainty  that  under  the 
great  coat  cape  the  shaggy  brows  and  motley  gray  eyes 
that  looked  down  upon  her,  belonged  to  none  other 
than  the  man  McClellan.  And  right  here  we  turn  to  her 
journal  again,  and  find  written  under  date  January  15, 
18—: 

"  When  that  man  spoke  to  me  that  night  as  I  was 
losing  my  w^ay,  thankful  as  I  ought  to  have  felt,  / 
could  not^  for  all  else  was  forgotten  save  a  shivering 
sensation  of  fear  when  in  his  presence,  that  1  always 
feel,  and  it  was  by  thaty*^^^m^  more  than  by  aught  else 
that  I  knew  it  was  him.  Why  is  he  forever  lurking  in 
my  pathway?  Has  he  evil  designs  toward  me,  or  has 
my  Aunt  misgivings  in  regard  to  the  propriety  of  my 
going  out  alone  even  in  daylight,  and  has  set  him  as  a 
spy  upon  my  track?  After  all  it  may  be  that  he  has 
friends  whom  he  visits  in  that  part  of  the  city,  and  see- 
ing I  was  alone,  offered  his  services  with  the  best  of 
motives;  perhaps  I  was  uncivil  to  him;  by  accepting 
his  proffered  assistance,  I  might  have  been  saved  much 
trouble." 

"  There  she  goes,  and  just  as  sure  as  my  name  is  Jim 
McClellan,  she  will  get  lost  and  have  a  long  tramp  of 
it  through  the  snow  before  she  gets  home,"  muttered  the 
man  as  he  saw  her  cross  the  street,  and  instead  of  keep- 
ing straight  on,  turn  again,  facing  the  storm,  just  as 
before,  except  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street.  "What 
shall  I  do?"  said  the  man  to  himself,  ai  he  saw  her 


80 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


hurrying  still  farther  away  from  home.  If  I  piirsma 
and  tell  her  again  she  is  going  the  wrong  way,  she  may 
become  alarmed  and  call  the  police.  No,  I  guess  I'll  not 
run  that  risk,  I  might  miss  a  good  job  if  I  should  be  shut 
up  a  few  days.  I  will  just  follow  her  at  a  distance  and 
see  that  no  harm  comes  to  her.  She  is  a  blessed  good 
girl,  and  it  is  just  her  goodness  that  is  taking  her  down 
into  these  haunts  of  sin  and  poverty,  and  the  Lord 
knows  I  wouldn't  harm  a  hair  of  her  dear  head.  She  is 
worth  forty  of  her  proud  Aunt  any  day.  But  I  must  be 
spry  or  I  will  lose  sight  ol  her,"  and  thus  soliloquizing^ 
he  quickened  his  pace  and  came  up  just  in  time  to  see 
her  turn  the  corner  of  the  street  leading  her  still  farther 
away.  "J/y  good  Scott!  "  said  he  "  this  will  never  do." 
J ust  then  he  saw  her  speak  to  a  policeman,  who,  turn^ 
ing  about,  went  with  her  back  to  the  corner,  where  he 
put  her  in  care  of  a  fellow-policeman,  he  kindly  escort- 
ing her  to  her  home. 

Night  had  set  in,  and  the  storm  still  raged  w^heu 
Minnie  entered  the  hall,  where  meeting  the  waiting-girl, 
she  asked  after  her  Aunt,  and  learned  that  she  was  irj 
her  room,  and  unable  to  sit  up,  and  that  her  Uncle  v/aB 
at  dinner  with  his  guests,  they  having  returned  laf.e, 
Minnie  hastened  to  her  room,  intending  to  make  a  hasty 
toilet  preparatory  to  entertaining  them  the  remainder 
of  the  evening;  but,  on  reaching  her  room,  she  felC  such 
extreme  weariness  and  utter  exhaustion,  that  she  could 
not  resist  the  desire  of  throwing  herself  down  on 

Grandma's  "  lounge  for  a  brief  rest. 

Could  she  have  seen,  as  she  stood  talking  with  the 
girl  in  the  hall,  the  man  who  shook  the  snow  from  his 
blue  overcoat  at  the  kitchen  door  below,  she  might  have 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIEE. 


81 


recognized  in  him  the  man  who  had  followed  her.  A 
few  moments  later  he  was  knocking  gently  at  Mrs.  Bald- 
win's door,  which  was  opened  cautiously  by  the  lady 
herself.  A  brief  conversation  in  an  undertone  was  car- 
ried on,  and  he  withdrew  to  the  kitchen,  carrying  with 
him  a  bottle  of  Mr.  Baldwin's  best  champagne. 

It  was  long  after  midnight  when  Minnie  awoke  in  a 
chill  from  the  deep  sleep  of  exhaustion  into  which  she 
had  fallen.  The  fire  had  burned  low.  The  door  stood 
ajar.  Upon  lying  down  she  had  thrown  a  light  cover- 
ing upon  her,  but  had  neglected  to  remove  her  damp 
clothing,  and  the  ill  effects  of  her  sleep  in  that  condition 
were  now  fully  apparent  in  the  soreness  of  her  throat  and 
the  entire  prostration  she  experienced.  She  sought  her 
bed,  but  only  to  pass  the  remainder  of  the  night  in  fitful, 
feverish  sleep,  disturbed  by  dreams  perilous  in  adven- 
ture, and  haunting  like  a  night-mare  in  its  wild  imagin- 
ings her  fevered  brain.  The  morning  found  her  unable 
to  rise,  and  after  several  attempts  to  dress  she  gave  it 
up,  and  rang  the  bell,  which  soon  brought  Janet  to  her 
aid.  The  kind-hearted  girl  was  greatly  alarmed  at 
sight  of  Minnie's  sufferings,  and  lost  no  time  in  appris- 
ing Mrs.  BaldAvin  of  her  illness,  insisting  that  a  physi- 
cian be  immediately  called.  Mrs.  Baldwin  was  evidently 
distressed,  telling  Janet  to  send  for  her  own  physician, 
but  did  not  divulge  her  knowledge  of  Minnie's  exposure 
of  the  night  before,  for  fear  of  betraying  McClellan  and 
herself. 

''Oh,  dear,"  she  said,  in  evident  displeasure,  ''who 
will  take  care  of  those  people  now?  Perhaps  when  they 
find  we  are  all  sick  they  will  go  home.  If  so,  I  shall 
regard  the  sickness  a  blessing  in  disguise." 

6 


82  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Upon  the  arrival  of  the  physician  he  questioned 
Minnie  as  to  her  symptoms  previous  to  this  attack,  and 
learned  that  she  had  been  as  well  as  usual.  She  then 
told  him  of  her  adventure  of  the  night  before  in  the 
storm,  and  of  her  sleep  in  her  wet  garments. 

"  That,"  he  said,  "  was  a  most  irrational  act,  and  as  a 
consequence  you  are  now  threatened  with  putrid  sore 
throat." 

He  wrote  out  a  prescription,  and  laying  it  upon  the 
stand,  took  up  his  hat  and  cane,  saying  he  w^ould  call 
again  soon,  descended  to  Mrs  Baldwin's  room.  There 
seemed  to  be  a  mutual  understanding  between  Mrs. 
Baldwin  and  the  doctor  in  regard  to  both  Minnie's  and 
her  own  illness,  and  his  frequent  long  visits  had  ceased 
to  elicit  remark  or  alarm.  After  remaining  his  usual 
length  of  time  he  was  heard  to  say,  as  he  came  out  into 
the  hall:  "  You  just  trust  me,  and  I  will  see  that  she  is 
kept  in  for  a  week  or  so  at  least." 

"  Janet,  can  you  write?"  said  Minnie,  as  she  saw  her 
about  to  leave  the  room  when  she  had  come  for  the 
prescriptions  for  the  errand-boy. 

"  Not  very  well,"  said  she,  with  some  confusion. 
"  Is  there  anything  you  would  like?" 

"  Nothing  in  particular  now,"  said  Minnie,  in  a 
troubled,  weary  way,  as  Janet  passed  out  of  the  room. 
On  her  return  she  saw  by  Minnie's  breathing  that  she 
was  resting  quietly,  so,  seating  herself,  she  awaited  the 
return  of  the  boy  w4th  the  medicine.  Meanwhile, 
Minnie  suddenly  awoke,  the  perspiration  starting  out 
upon  her  face  and  hands. 

"  Oh,  how  glad  I  am  that  it's  but  a  dream!" 
What  is  it?"  said  Janet. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFB 


88 


"  I  dreamed,"  said  Minnie,  "  that  the  little  sick  child 
had  been  taken  away  and  buried  alive,  and  it  seemed  so 
horrible  that  I  am  all  of  a  tremble." 

She  lay  for  some  moments  with  her  eyes  closed,  then, 
looking  at  J anet,  she  asked,  "  Can  that  man,  McClellan, 
be  trusted?  I  would  like  to  send  a  note  by  him."  To 
which  J  anet  replied,  "  If  it  is  not  of  too  great  impor- 
tance I  should  not  hesitate." 

"  Then  I  will  trouble  you  to  hand  me  my  portfolio, 
and  ask  him  to  come  to  my  room  in  a  few  moments 
with  you." 

As  Janet  left  the  room  Minnie  said  to  herself,  ''Who 
would  ever  have  thought  that  I,  of  all  persons,  should 
ask  a  favor  of  that  man?  But  I  know  I  am  growing 
worse,  and  it  may  be  some  time  before  I  get  out,  and  I 
must  know  how  the  child  is,  and  give  my  reasons  for 
not  being  with  them;  and  I  know  of  no  one  whom  I 
could  so  well  direct  to  the  place,  as  he  seems  to  be 
familiar  with  that  part  of  the  city.  This  once  I  can 
afford  to  sacrifice  my  prejudices."  Then,  hastily  pen- 
ciling a  few  lines,  she  inclosed  it  in  a  tiny  white  envel- 
ope, and  when,  a  few  moments  later,  Janet  returned 
with  the  man,  as  he  entered,  and  she  met  the  glare  of 
his  "  motley  gray  eyes,"  she  experienced  for  an  instant 
that  same  unpleasant  sensation,  and  almost  regretted 
having  sent  for  him;  but,  rallying  her  courage,  and 
looking  him  in  the  face,  she  said,  "  Mr.  McClellan,  I 
would  like  to  ask  a  favor  of  you." 

"Anything,  Miss,"  said  he,  "  that  I  can  do  for  you  will 
be  cheerfully  done,"  and  he  straightened  himself  up  with 
a  dignified  air,  which  improved  his  appearance  mate- 
rially, doubtless  feeling  the  purity  of  the  atmosphere 


84  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

about  him,  he  became  exalted  in  his  own  estimation  to 
a  plane  far  above  his  native  impure  one. 

Thanks.  You  are  very  kind,"  continued  Minnie. 
"  I  have  a  note  I  would  like  you  to  deliver  as  addressed. 
Do  you  know  where  it  is?"  she  asked,  feeling  sure  that 
he  did,  and  yet  not  wishing  him  to  know  that  he  had 
been  recognized  by  her  at  either  of  their  meetings. 
'^Please  wait  for  an  answer,  and  1  shall  be  very  grateful 
to  you,"  and  with  a  sigh  of  weariness  she  turned  away 
and  gave  herself  up  to  that  irresistible  drowsiness  so 
common  to  her  disease. 

McClellan  took  the  dainty  little  note,  and  with  a  gleam 
of  gratified  ambition  in  his  motley  eyes,  he  hastened 
away. 

A  few  moments  later,  as  he  came  noiselessly  from 
Mrs.  Baldwin's  room,  he  was  heard  to  say:  ^^I  am 
going  on  a  mission  of  mercy,"  and  he  chuckled  to  him- 
self at  what  he  chose  to  call  his  good  fortune,  and  when 
on  meeting  a  chum  who  asked  for  what  part  he  was 
bound  this  cold  day,  he  said:  ''1  am  going  on  an  errand 
that  may  be  the  means  of  bringing  me  a  fortune.  You 
see  people  do  not  always  know  when  they  help  you  to  a 
poor  little  worm  for  bait,  just  how  big  a  fish  you  will 
draw.  Nothing  on  the  globe  could  have  been  more  to 
my  personal  benefit  than  just  the  errand  I  "am  now, 
by  mere  accident^  sent  upon.  Good  luck  turns  up  to  a 
fellow  once  in  a  long  time,  and  my  lucky  star  seems  in 
the  ascendant  just  now.  Good  morning,"  and  with  a 
low  bow  and  a  tip  of  the  hat,  bordering  upon  the  gen- 
teel, hastened  away. 


CHAPTEE  YII. 


THE  AWAKENING. 

J onathan  Geddiz  and  the  two  women,  after  wander- 
ing about  from  street  to  street,  came  to  a  stop  in  front 
of  A.  T.  Stewart's  retail  establishment. 

"  Here  it  is.  Mother.  We  have  found  it  at  last,"  said 
he,  as  he  walked  in  with  an  air  as  if  familiar  with  every 
phase  of  city  life.  Meanwhile  the  women  lingered  hesi- 
tatingly, as  if  timid  about  entering,  whereupon-  Mr. 
Geddiz  said,  in  a  loud  tone: 

"Come  on,  girls;  no  hanging  back  now„jist  face  the 
music."  Then  addressing  the  clerk  who  had  come  for- 
ward to  attend  them:  "  You  see,  sir,  we  are  not  want- 
ing to  buy  much  of  anything  just  now.  We  live  down 
iiere  at  Broadtop,  Penn.,  and  I  have  a  nice  little  farm  of 
about  two  hundred  acres,  and  one  grown-up  boy,  and 
he  is  married  and  has  a  boy.  It's  some  little  notion  for 
him  that  we  want.  We  came  up  to  the  city  to  visit 
Ned  Baldwin,  Esq.,  and  so  we  thought  we  would  jist 
improve  the  time  looking  at  the  sights.  The  girls  here 
have  never  had  much  chance  to  see  anything,  so  I 
thought  I  would  take  them  out  this  winter.  And  now, 
if  you  have  time,  you  will  please  show  them  around  the 
house  a  bit.  It  may  pay  you  sometime,"  giving  him  a 
.nudge  in  the  side,  accompanied  by  a  chuckle  and  a  wink 
of  the  eye.       Some  person  may  want  some  fixins',  if 

85 


86  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

they  ever  get  married,  and  there  is  nothing  like  know- 
ing where  to  go  for  them,"  and  he  looked  out  from  nnder 
his  broad-brimmed  hat  with  a  comical  expression  at 
Adaline  Price.  "  Let's  see,  Mr.  Stewart,"  scanning  the 
man  with  a  thoughtful  air,  as  if  trying  to  recall  some 
half-forgotten  fact,  "  I  don't  jist  remember,  but  are  you 
a  married  man?  If  not,  you'd  better  look  out,  or  our 
Adaline  here  will  be  charming  you  right  out  of  this  store 
down  to  Broadtop  to  rusticate  about  one  Sunday  in  a 
month." 

But  the  gentlemanly  clerk  was  in  no  mood  for  enjoy- 
ing the  old  man's  jokes,  so  he  told  him  in  as  few  words 
as  possible  that  Mr.  Stewart  had  been  married  for  a 
number  of  years.  As  the  afternoon  was  a  pleasant  one, 
quite  a  number  of  their  best  regular  customers  were 
needing  attention,  so  he  said  to  the  old  gentleman: 

"If  there  is  no  part  of  the  building  you  wish  to 
inspect  in  particular,  you  can  walk  about  and  see  quite 
as  much  as  though  I  were  with  you,  so  please  excuse 
me,"  and  with  these  words  he  hurried  to  escort  some 
elegantly -dressed  ladies  to  the  velvet  department.  The 
three  sight-seers  stepped  back  as  they  rustled  past  them. 
Mr.  Geddiz  regarding  them  with  some  interest  for  a 
few  moments,  turned  to  his  wife  with  a  "  Highty-tighty ; 
how  they  rustle.  Mother,  hhw  do  you  'spose  you  and 
Adaline  would  feel  flumididled  out  like  that.  I've  a 
mind  to  go  right  home  and  sell  old  Brindle,  and  old 
Shandy,  and  invest  in  two  outfits  jist  like  them  two. 
Shandy  is  getting  most  too  old  to  work  at  hard  work  on 
a  farm;  besides  we  have  horses,  enough  without  him. 
Come,  what  do  you  say,  girls?"  And  the  old  man 
stepped  around  trying  to  shake  down  his  pantaloons, 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


87 


which  seemed  determined  not  to  shake  one-half  inch 
nearer  his  shoe-tops,  despite  his  palling  at  the  sides, 
and  kicking  out  one  foot  after  the  other.  But  the  two 
women  were  too  much  engaged  just  then  to  give  him  an 
answer,  even  if  tliey  heard  his  question. 

"  Well,  just  stay  right  here,  and  don't  let  Father 
come  tagging  after  me,  and  I'll  follow  slowly  along 
after  them,  and  if  it  is  her  I'm  bound  to  find  it  out  any- 
way," Mrs.  Geddiz  said  to  Adaline,  as  she  turned  to  fol- 
low the  two  elegantly  attired  women. 

"  What's  up  now?  Where's  Mother  goin'?  "  said  Jon- 
athan in  a  loud  whisper  intended  for  Adaline's  ear  only, 
but  which  reached  the  ears  ol  every  clerk  about  them — 
in  fact  they  were  attracting  their  attention  full  as  much 
as  were  their  customers. 

"Hush,  Jonathan;  don't  you  see  you  are  attracting 
notice,"  said  Miss  Adaline.  ''We  kinder  thought  one 
of  those  women  was  Cristine  Baldwin.  It  certainly  looks 
like  her,  and  Manda  Jane  has  gone  to  see,  so  you  stay 
right  here  with  me." 

After  waiting  what  seemed  an  age  of  time,  Manda 
Jane  came  back  with  a  queer,  puzzled  look  upon  her 
face. 

''What  is  it.  Mother?  Is  it  her?"  said  Jonathan, 
'•  Well,  its  a  strange  thing.  I  looked  at  her  clothes  and 
1  know  they  are  just  the  same  as  we  see  in  that  room 
upstairs  laid  out  on  that  bed  with  the  blue  coverlid, 
which  that  gal  called  blue  room,  I  didn't  see  any- 
thing bhie  but  that  coverlid  and  a  few  trinkets  on  the 
huroic\  I  have  w^orn  a  blue  coverlid  on  my  bed  at  home 
winters  for  ten  years,  and  a  blue  calico  quilt  summers, 
and  I  never  thought  of  calling  it  a  blue  room,^'^ 


88  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  that  woman?  Go  on  with 
your  first  story,"  said  Miss  Price  in  an  impatient  tone. 

"  Well,  I  will,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  catching  her  thread 
just  where  she  had  dropped  it.  "  I  thought  it  was  the 
same  fur  cloak  with  that  border  of  darker  fur  around  it, 
and  the  dress  looked  jist  like  that  one.  I  walked  all 
around  her  on  every  side,  and  looked  at  her  from  top  to 
toe,  and  I  jist  got  up  close  along  side  of  her,  and  felt 
her  dress,  and  it  feels  exactly  like  that  one  did  upstairs, 
but  she  kept  her  face  so  kind  of  down,  looking  at  the 
stuff  they  were  buyin'  that  I  couldn't  get  a  good  look, 
so,  thinks  I,  I'll  just  walk  right  up  and  call  her  Mrs. 
Oristine  Baldwin.  I  tell  you  I  felt  riled  to  think  she 
was  acting  so  dreadful,  having  us  think  she  was  sick, 
and  then,  worse  than  all,  her  walking  right  past  us  and 
never  lettin'  on  she  knowed  us.  Well,  you  see,"  she 
continued,  "  I  did  walk  right  up  and  took  hold  of  her 
arm,  and  turned  her  around,  and  said,  as  I  looked  at  her 
through  these  magnifyers  of  mine:  '  Cristine  Baldwin, 
is  it  possible  you  are  out  in  the  cold  after  not  bein' 
able  to  rise  from  your  sick  couch  this  blessed  day!  " 

"  Well,  hurry  up.  Mother,"  said  Jonathan,  growing 
impatient  to  hear  the  result  of  his  wife's  "  daring 

"  Well,"  she  continued,  "  she  turned  nearly  purple, 
and  her  black  eyes  nearly  flashed  fire,  as  she  jerked  away 
with  a  savage  jerk,  saying,  '  Who  are  you,  crazy  old 
woman?  Let  me  go.  That's  not  my  name.'  Then  I 
think  she  felt  kinder  'shamed  like  for  acting  so  rude, 
for  she  nudged  the  other  woman  with  her  elbow,  and 
blinked  her  eyes  at  the  clerk.  Then  she  said,  very 
sweetly,  '  I  have  been  taken  for  Mrs.  Baldwin  several 


Hurrying  on  toward  her  was  a  man  whom  she  thought  was  the 

SAME  SHE  HAD  SEEN  AS  SHE  CAME  OUT  OF  THE  HOUSE.     See  page  79. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


89 


times,  and  if  there  is  feo  strong  a  resemblance  between 
her  and  myself  I  think  I  shall  have  to  make  her 
acqnaintance.'  Then,  turning  to  me,  she  said,  '  You  are 
perfectly  excusable  for  the  mistake;  it  is  no  more  than 
others  have  done.'  Law'  sus!  I  hadn't  asked  to  be 
excused;  but  then,  I  thought,  bein'  she  was  so  kind  as 
to  do  it  without  me  askin',  I  thought  a  little  explana- 
tion on  my  part  would  be  proper,  so  I  told  them  all, 
for  they  all  seemed  interested,  that  Cristine  Baldwin 
was  my  niece,  and  was  real  sick,  and  hadn't  sot  up  a 
minute  that  day,  and  not  one  of  us  dare  look  into  her 
'oom,  for  fear  of  disturbing  her;  and  then,  to  make  the 
^'oman  feel  kinder  easy,  and  not  blame  me  too  much,  I 
told  her  to  get  acquainted  with  Cristine,  and  come  out 
and  spend  the  summer  with  her  at  our  house,  for 
Cristine  came  most  every  year.  She  ginerally  comes 
about  the  first  of  June,  and  stays  till  the  last  of  Sep- 
tember.* She  likes  our  fresh  butter  and  nice  cream,  and 
sich  likes,  fruit,  and  all  the  things  we  have  on  the 
farm,  and  every  time  when  she  goes  home  she 
insists  that  Father  and  me  must  come  to  see  her,  and 
stay  a  long  time,  and,  as  we  hadn't  done  so,  last  spring 
slie  wrote  us  a  letter,  sayin'  she  didn't  feel  like  comin' 
agin  '  on  tliet  account,'  but  she  was  afraid  if  she  staid 
in  the  city  through  the  hot  weather  her  poor,  weak  nerves 
would  give  clear  out,  and  so  Jonathan  (I  told  them  that 
was  my  man),  wrote  her  a  letter,  insistin'  on  her  comin' 
out,  and  she  came.  And  then  1  told  them  that  Father 
and  me  talked  it  over,  and  thought  it  would  make  her 
feel  kinder  easy  in  her  mind  like,  so  we  concluded  we 
would  come  down  this  winter,  as  city  folks  ginerally  go 
into  the  country  in  the  summer,  and  I  told  them  that 


90  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

here  we  was,  and  that  poor  Cristine  was  too  sick  to 
enjoy  our  visit  half  as  much  as  she  would  if  she  was  well. 
And  all  the  time  I  was  tellin'  this  I  had  my  eyes  sot 
right  on  her  face,  and  the  more  I  looked  at  her  the  more 
I  thought  it  must  be  Cristine  herself,  and  I  jist  said, 
'  Are  you  sure  you  are  not  Cristine  Baldwin? '  and  then 
you  just  orter  see  the  way  she  turned  up  her  nose,  and 
started  away  to  the  other  side,  lookin'  as  if  she  would 
just  sink  through  the  floor;  and  I  did  kinder  pity  her, 
'cause  I  had  made  such  a  mistake,  and  then  the  clerks 
all  about  there  was  comin'  up  closer  that  way  to  hear 
all  that  we  was  talkin'  about."  Then  turning  to  Adaline 
she  said,  "  I  don't  see  how  jist  that  my  takin'  her  for 
Cristine  Baldwin  need  make  her  so  embarrassed-like,  do 
you?  Just  then  the  two  women  went  into  a  little  square 
room,  and  as  true  as  I  live  it  just  went  ri'ght  up.  I 
was  so  scared  I  went  to  look,  and  couldn't  see  nothin' 
but  the  bottom  of  the  floor,  and  the  clerks  were  stand- 
ing laughing  all  around,  so  I  turned  back,  but  I  Shall 
always  think  they  just  did  thet  to  get  away  from  me; 
though  I  am  afraid  they  will  get  hurt,  hidin'  in  such 
places." 

At  this  Adaline  manifested  a  spirit  of  impatience, 
saying:  "  I  think  we  had  better  be  going.  You  and 
Jonathan  are  making  yourselves  rather  ridiculous." 

"What  now!"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz>  looking  over  her 
spectacles.    "  What's  Father  been  doing?" 

But  before  Miss  Price,  who  had  a  more  deflnite  idea 
of  propriety  than  her  less  cultivated  sister  and  husband, 
could  answer,  Mr.  Geddiz  came  forward,  saying  good- 
naturedly,  "Why,  Adaline,  that  was  jist  a  good  joke. 
You  see,  Mother,  I  kept  looking  at  a  man  a  little  bit 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


91 


while  you  was  gone,  and  every  time  I  looked  at  him  he 
was  looking  at  me,  and  thinks  I,  he  looks  kind  of  naturel 
like  and  may  be  he's  somebody  that  know'd  me  once,  so 
I  bowed  my  head  to  him  and  he  bowed  to  me  at  the 
same  time  I  was  a  bowin',  and  then  I  thought  I  would 
go  and  talk  a  bit  to  him,  and  so  I  started,  and  jist  then 
he  started  tow^'rds  me,  and  I  reached  out  my  hand  to 
shake  hands,  and  he  reached  out  his'n,  and  what  do  you 
think,  Mother?"  Here  he  laughed  heartily,  as  he  said, 
I  ran  my  hand  right  plumb  up  against  that  big  lookin' 
glass,  and  of  course  we  all  laughed.  Wasn't  it  a  good 
joke,  though?  But  come,  girls,  it  looks  squally  out,  and 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  we  would  have  another  big  storm." 
With  this  the  trio  passed  out,  leaving  the  highly  amused 
clerks  at  ease  with  their  customers. 

^  ^  ^  ^  ^ 

Drive  lively,  John,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  as  she  and 
her  friend  were  seated  in  her  sleigh,  there  is  a  storm 
coming."  Then  turning  to  her  friend,  she  said:  "I  must 
be  home  and  snug  in  my  bed  before  that  crowd  of  dolts 
get  back,  or  it  will  be  all  up  with  me  for  my  next  sum- 
mer's visit." 

''Are  they  really  at  your  house,  and  are  they  the 
friends  you  visit  every  summer?"  asked  her  friend  in 
surprise.  "  I  thought  you  told  the  clerk  that  it  was  a 
crazy  neighbor  of  your  uncle's,  and  that  she  imagined 
that  she  w^as  your  aunt." 

''What!"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  with  asperity,  "do  you 
suppose  I  would  have  him  know  that  every  word  she  said 
was  true?  I  got  out  of  it  the  best  way  I  could  and  be 
honorable.  I  wouldn't  have  them  know  for  the  world  it 
was  me.    Did  you  ever  notice,"  she  continued,  "  how 


92  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

very  different  sucli  people  appear  at  home  from  what 
they  do  away?  At  home  these  people  appear  all 
right,  and  are  just  as  kind  as  can  be.  There  is  nothing 
too  good  for  me  when  I  am  there,  and  Uncle  delights 
in  taking  me  to  ride,  and  Aunt  just  works  night  and 
day  preparing  nice  dishes  for  me  to  eat;  but  after  all  I 
do  not  think  such  people  ought  ever  to  come  to  a  city 
to  mortify  their  friends.  I'm  sure  if  I  thought  they 
were  anything  else  tlmii  prated  rrf  me ^  I  should  never 
trouble  them,  and  I  wish  they  were  as  considerate  of  my 
feelings." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  house  of  her  friend 
who^  by  this  time  was  so  thoroughly  disgusted  with  Mrs. 
Baldwin  for  her  lack  of  true  womanly  principle,  that  she 
bade  her  good  day  without  further  courtesy,  having 
resolved  to  drop  he^  from  her  list  of  friends;  while  John, 
hurrying  away  with  the  utmost  speed  of  his  horses, 
reached  home  just  in  time  to  escape  the  storm. 

•X-  :i:  *  ^  -Jt  He 

Mr.  Geddiz  and  the  two  women  found  upon  going  out 
that  the  storm  had  really  set  in,  and  the  high  winds  and 
pelting  sleet  blinded  them  so  they  became  confused,  and 
were  unable  to  decide  which  direction  to  take,  and 
after  an  hour  spent  in  fighting  their  way  through  the 
storm  without  finding  one  of  the  land-marks  which 
Jonathan  had  set  up,  as  was  his  method  in  a  strange 
city,  to  provide  against  losing  his  way,  Mrs.  Geddiz  said, 
rather  sarcastically: 

"  Jonathan  Geddiz,  I  thought  you  was  the  man  that 
never  got  lost,  and  I  'spose  we  will  be  obliged  to  wander 
around  all  night  now  jist  on  account  of  your  superior 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


93 


knowledge  of  cities,  or  else  be  taken  to  the  house  I've 
hearn  tell  of  that  they  take  lost  people  to." 

"  There  is  no  danger,"  said  Mr.  Geddiz.  "We  will 
come  out  all  right." 

Just  then  a  policeman,  hearing  their  talk,  and  think- 
ing they  had  lost  their  way,  came  to  their  rescue  and 
directed  them  right,  which,  following  as  directed,  soon 
brought  them  in  safety  to  their  friends  just  in  time 
for  dinner.  Mrs.  Baldwin  and  Minnie  not  appearing 
at  the  table,  Mr.  Baldwin  entertained  his  guests,  and 
remained  with  them  during  the  evening;  he  entering 
into  a  spirited  conversation  with  Adaline,  recalling 
reminiscences  of  the  days  when  he  as  a  young  law  stu- 
dent, had  gone  to  Broadtop  to  teach  school  in  order  to 
pursue  his  studies.  His  father,  although  possessed  of 
abundant  means,  had  opposed  his  taking  up  th^  profes- 
sion, wishing  him  to  remain  on  the  farm  and  make  an 
"  JionoToble  "  living,  and  refused  to  aid  him,  pecuniarily, 
in  his  studies.  After  seeing  his  determined  zeal  and 
ambition  in  that  direction,  he  relented,  and  provided  him 
with  abundant  means  to  prosecute  his  studies.  Ada- 
line,  under  the  magic  influence  of  the  reminiscences, 
seemed  to  renew  both  her  age  and  sprightliness,  and  for 
the  first  time  during  her  stay,  she  felt  at  ease  in  his 
presence.  Their  conversation  led  out  from  those  earlier 
days  to  their  individual  experience  with  the  world.  The 
various  phases  of  the  domestic,  religious  and  political 
themes  were  discussed.  Mr.  Baldwin,  with  his  lawyer- 
like style  of  probing,  questioning  and  cross  questioning, 
her  more  for  his  own  amusement  tha-n  auglit  else,  reached 
a  height  of  knowledge  and  called  forth  from  the  depth  of 
her  intellect  master  thoughts,  Adaline  herself  being  sur- 


94  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

prised  at  the  store  of  knowledge  she  had  unconsciously 
laid  away  during  the  years  of  almost  entire  seclusion  from 
society.  He  had  but  to  touch  upon  a  subject,  when  her 
quick,  discerning  mind  would  grasp  it,  and  her  native 
but  uncultivated  forces,  delve  down  into  depths  hitherto 
unfathomed  by  herself,  bringing  to  the  surface  some  of 
the  most  beautiful  gems  of  truth  and  philanthropic 
views,  ever  produced  by  pen  or  brain  of  man,  and  the 
pale,  sallow  complexion  gave  way  to  the  bright  tinge  of 
animation,  her  black  eyes  brightened  and  twinkled  like 
diamonds,  throwing  their  flashing  light  over  the  little 
group  of  interested  listeners,  until  warned  by  the  late- 
ness of  tbe  hour.  As  they  were  about  to  leave  the 
room,  Mr.  Baldwin  extended  his  hand  to  each,  reserving 
Miss  Price  for  the  last,  and  on  giving  her  his  hand,  he 
said,  in  deep,  mellow  tones,  which  bespoke  the  earnest- 
ness of  his  words: 

"  I  am  glad,  Adaline,  that,  after  all  these  years,  we 
have  met.    God  bless  you!    Good  night." 

Mr.  Geddiz,  upon  reaching  liis  room,  expressed  him- 
self as  surprised  and  pleased  at  the  happy  turn  that 
Adaline's  mind  had  taken,  and  said  to  his  wife: 

^'1  never  heard  the  girl  talk  so  much  and  so  sensible 
like  in  my  life,  did  you.  Mother?" 

Never,  never^''  replied  that  lady,  as  she  gave  her- 
self up  to  the  drowsy  god. 

Adaline,  on  reaching  her  room,  walked  to  the  mirror, 
and  as  she  stood  looking  at  her  reflected  image,  solilo- 
quized thus: 

I  tliink  I  liaven't  felt  so  well  for  years.  I  feel  at 
least  ten  years  younger  than  I  did  when  I  came  here.  I 
think  the  city  air  must  agree  with  me.   I  believe  if  I 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


could  stay  here  two  or  three  months  I  would  be  in  per- 
fect health."  Then  after  a  few  moments  of  what  seemed 
to  be  perplexing  thouglit,  she  continued,  I  have  not 
the  means  to  pay  board  so  long  as  that.  I  believe  I  will 
ask  Mrs.  Baldwin  if  she  would  not  like  me  to  remain  as 
seamstress  or  companion  for  herself,  seeing  she  is  a 
sort  of  invalid."  Then  after  a  moment  more  of  reflection 
she  said  in  a  somewhat  vexed  tone:  "  Adaline  Price, 
you  are  a  fool  if  there  ever  was  one,  to  think  of  putting 
yourself,  for  one  moment,  in  the  power  of  the  woman 
who  has  ruined  your  happiness  and  blighted  your  whole 
life.  No,"  and  she  set  her  foot  down  with  force,  "you 
shall  never  again  do  that,  and  all  that  is  left  for  you  to 
do  is  to  go  back  to  your  dismal  home,  gather  up  the 
scattered  fragments  of  your  broken  idol,  place  them  on 
the  old  throne  and  wait.     Yes,  wait,^^ 

That  night  Adaline's  pillow  was  moistened  with  tears, 
as  it  had  not  been  in  many  years,  the  parched  seal  of 
the  fountain  so  long  dried  away  to  a  bitter,  hardened 
mass,  had  given  way,  and  the  oil  of  love  had  moistened 
and  dissolved  it,  and  she  wept  as  she  did  in  other  days. 

After  the  company  had  withdrawn  from  the  room,  Mr. 
Baldwin  drew  his  easy  chair  in  front  of  the  grate,  pick- 
ing up  the  evening  paper  and  glancing  nervously  over 
it,  laid  it  down,  and  resting  his  elbows  on  the  arms  of 
his  chair,  locked  his  hands  together,  and  leaning  forward, 
looked  long  and  earnestly  into  the  smoldering  fire,  all 
unconscious  of  the  passing  time.  What  his  thoughts 
were  during  that  hour  no  one  but  the  All  Seeing,  All 
Knowing  and  himself  ever  knew.  As  he  arose  to  retire, 
he  said,  "  It  is  almost  cruel  that  that  woman  should  be 


96  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

deprived  of  the  advantages  of  society.  She  could  grace 
any  circle,  and  become  an  ornament  to  the  world." 

That  night  was  one  of  restless  tossing  and  vainly 
courting  sleep  for  Ned  Baldwin,  such  as  he  had  not 
known  for  years,  and  more  than  once  he  groaned  rather 
than  spoke  those  significant  and  oft-repeated  words:  It 
might  have  been." 

Ah!  Mr.  Baldwin,  you  have  found  that  new  life 
and  impulse  has  been  given  to  the  germ  which  God 
has  gifted  with  eternal  youth,  even  though  implanted 
within  a  heart  of  a  half  century's  experience  with  life's 
conflicts. 

The  sun  rose  the  next  morning  over  that  household 
finding  there  two  invalids,  or  at  least  two  whom  we  are 
compelled  to  class  as  such,  two  happy,  well  contented 
old  people,  and  two  others,  who,  since  the  setting  of  that 
orb,  had  found,  far  out  on  life's  journey,  their  Calvary, 
up  which  they  must  now  carry  the  cross,  left  at  their 
feet  years  ago,  and  upon  it  crucify  all  there  was  left  of 
the  life-giving  power  of  their  souls.  The  call  of  honor 
demanded  it,  and  neither  could  disobey  that  call. 

"  Yes,"  said  Adaline  Price,  as  she  awoke  after  a  rest- 
less, disturbed  sleep;  "  I  must  go  home  at  once.  My 
heart  tells  me  that  in  delay  there  is  danger;  but,"  she 
continued,  "  that  one  hour  of  pleasure  will  atone  for 
much  of  the  bitter  past.  There  was  no  need  of  words 
to  tell  me  that  I  have  not  been  buried  too  deep  for  res- 
urrection. I  saw  it  in  the  kindling  of  his  eye.  I  heard 
it  in  his  tones.  I  felt  it  in  the  pressure  of  his  hands  as 
he  bade  me  good-night.  Yes,  I  know  now  that  I  am 
not  the  unlovable  and  unloved  creature  I  have  ever 
deemed  myself  to  be,  and  I  am  now  content  to  wait — to 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


97 


wait,  if  need  be,  until  eternity  shall  give  me  back  my 

The  entire  company  at  breakfast  were  surprised  by 
her  announcing  that  she  should  take  the  ten  o'clock  train 
for  Broadtop. 

"What's  up  with  you  now,  Adaline?''  said  Mr.  Ged- 
diz,  in  surprise,  to  whioh  she  replied,  in  a  subdued  tone, 
so  laden  with  aflFection  that  it  only  increased  his  sur- 
prise: 

"  Nothing,  Brother,  except  that  I  think  best  to  go 
now.  I  have  had  an  exceedingly  pleasant  visit,  but  I 
have  just  matiared  a  plan  that  I  wish  to  execute  at  once. 
I  hope  I  shall  not  disturb  your  visit  in  the  least  by 
going  now." 

Mr.  Baldwin  looked  up  at  her,  tlien  down  at  his  plate, 
cleared  his  throat,  and  made  several  attempts  to  speak. 
At  length  he  said,  in  a  husky  tone,  'Twould  be  very 
pleasant  for  us,  Miss  Price,  if  you  could  stay  longer." 

"  Thank  you,  I  should  enjoy  it,"  she  said.  "  Duty 
to  me  is,  or  ought  to  be,  pleasure,  and  I  must  go 
to-day."  This  was  said  with  a  calm  dignity  that  told 
plainly  her  renolution  was  not  to  be  shaken. 

Well,  theti,  Mother,  I  guess  we'd  better  all  pack  up 
and  go.  But  its  ruther  sudden  like,  isn't  it?"  said  Mr. 
Geddiz,  to  which  his  wife  responded  with  emphasis, 

No,  Jonathan  Geddiz,  /  shall  not  leave  this  family 
while  they  are  all  down  sick.  1  have  no  particlar  duty 
to  perform  any  place  mor'n  another.  'Lijah's  wife 
doesn't  need  me  there,  and  I  can  do  a  sight  of  good 
here;  so  you  jist  go  home  with  Adaline,  and  you  can 
help  'Lijah  take  care  of  the  stock  while  I  stay  hero 
^nd  nuss  up  the  sick  folks  and  tend  to  superintend- 


98  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

ing  things  ginerally,  and  by'm-bye  you  can  come  up 
and  finish  out  your  visit  and  take  me  home.  It 
would  be  worse  than  wicked  for  me  to  leave  poor  Cris- 
tine  in  her  time  of  affliction — she  would  never  desert 
me  at  such  a  time  as  this,  1  know  that. 

Then  appealing  to  Mr.  Baldwin,  she  asked  if  he  didn't 
think  her  "  plan  a  good  one."  To  which,  as  a  matter  of 
courtesy,  he  answered  satisfactorily,  yet  with  a  convic- 
tion that  if  his  wife's  recovery  depended  upon  her 
remaining  as  nurse,  the  prospect  of  a  speedy  recovery 
was  not  very  flattering. 

For  Mrs.  Geddiz  to  suggest  meant  for  Jonathan  to 
obey,  and  forthwith  she  set  herself  to  work  to  make  the 
necessary  arrangements. 

"Must  you  go?"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin  when  Adaline 
informed  her  that  she  was  about  to  leave.  "  I  am  sorry 
I  could  not  have  made  your  visit  more  pleasant,  but 
these  poor,  weak  nerves  of  mine  are  forever  depriving  me 
of  what  little  comfort  I  might  otherwise  enjoy.  But  if 
you  must  go,  good-bye,"  and  with  this  she  sank  upon  her 
pillow  as  if  completely  exhausted;  and  with  all  the  old 
bitterness  gone  from  her  heart,  Adaline  went  out  from 
the  presence  of  the  one  who  had  opened  for  her  a  path 
up  the  stairway  of  fame,  and  Mrs.  Baldwin  in  after  years 
realized  that  she,  like  many  others  who  in  closing  the 
door  of  happiness  against  others,  had  found  herself  on 
the  wrong  side  of  the  closed  door. 

Mr.  Geddiz  also  came  in  to  say  good-bye,  and  after  a 
few  words  of  advice  concerning  her  health,  and  exhort- 
ing her  to  be  ready  for  the  change,  which  must  come  to 
all  sooner  or  late,  he  said: 

God's  ways,  Cristine,  are  very  mysterious,  and  we 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


99 


just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is,  so  its  best  to  have  our 
lamps  trimmed  and  burnin'.  Mother  will  stay  and 
take  care  of  you  until  you  get  well,  if  you  ever  do,  and 
she  will  be  a  great  comfort  to  you;  she  is  all  the  mother 
you  have  ever  known,  and  she  loves  you  as  if  you  were 
her  own."  Then,  stooping  down,  he  imprinted  a  kiss 
upon  her  quivering  lips,  quivering  from  the  touch  his 
words  had  made  upon  the  long  dormant  chord  of  love, 
which  for  years  had  been  buried  in  the  depths  of  a 
worldly,  ambitious  heart.  A  moment  afterward  she 
heard  the  hall  door  close,  and  Jonathan  Geddiz  and  Ada- 
line  Price  were  gone,  the  one  to  take  up  the  old,  the 
other  the  new  and  untried  work,  and  no  one  who  read 
with  intense  interest,  in  after  years,  the  thrilling  words 
from  the  gifted  pen  of  "  Wide  Awake"  ever  knew  how 
that  awakening  came.  Neither  knew  the  aged  people  or 
the  orplians,  in  that  metropolis,  how  much  they  owed  to 
that  awakening  for  many  additional  comforts  in  their 
asylums,  and  few  who  read  in  later  years,  even  since  she 
has  been  introduced  to  the  reader  as  Adaline  Price, 
that  the  gifted  authoress  had  gone  to  that  bourne  from 
whence  no  traveler  ere  returns,  know  of  the  wounded 
heart  she  had  taken  up  to  the  great  Healer,  or  that  in 
all  her  later  years,  she  had  been  content  to  wait.^^ 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


BRIGHTER  PROSPECTS. 

That  night  when  Doctor  Bein  was  comfortably  rest- 
ing in  his  home,  he  took  up  the  evening  paper,  and 
after  turning  it  rapidly  over,  glancing  up  and  down  its 
well-filled  columns,  and  seeing  nothing  to  interest  him, 
particularly,  laid  it  down  and  turning  to  his  wife,  who 
was  reclining  in  her  invalid  chair,  said,  as  he  ran  his 
fingers  through  his  hair,  and  pushed  the  gray  locks 
back  from  his  temples : 

"  My  gude  wife,  I  have  a  half-matured  plan,  which  I 
think  might  be  of  great  pleasure  to  you  as  well  as  a 
benefit,  and  at  the  same  time  render  aid  to  two  rather 
destitute  persons,  at  least  for  the  present,  or  until 
this  cold,  winter  weather  is  past.  Of  course,  I  do  not 
expect  to  put  the  plan  into  execution,  unless  it  accords 
perfectly  with  your  views,  and  meets  your  hearty 
approval,  for  I  am  thinking  of  your  interests  more  than 
any  other.  They  can  struggle  along,  as  do  thousands  of 
others,  and  may  be  all  the  better  fitted  to  fight  life's 
battles  if  they  are  left  to  struggle  on  alone." 

''Let  me  liear  what  it  is.  Doctor,"  said  the  lady. 
"Perhaps  I  can  help  you  to  decide;  can  at  least  think 
about  it,"  said  the  worthy  woman,  whose  heart  had 
ever  been  reaching  out  with  that  of  her  husband 
toward  the  sorrowing  and  destitute  among  earth's  chil- 

100 

r 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


101 


dren,  her  whole  life  having  been  made  up  of  those 
quiet,  little  deeds  of  benevolence,  which,  although  they 
seemed  small  to  her,  went  a  great  ways  toward  helping 
many  a  destitute  and  disconsolate  one.  She  was  ever 
looking  for  the  great  responsibilities  which  are  standing 
thick  in  all  the  passages  of  an  every-day  life,  and  was 
prepared  to  meet  them  cheerfully. 

The  Doctor  then  told  her  of  the  sick  little  orphan 
child,  whose  mother  he  had  attended  during  her  long 
illness;  giving  her  the  particulars  of  her  sudden  illness, 
and  dwelling  long  and  enthusiastically  upon  Jane  Coil's 
devotion  and  care  of  both  mother  and  child;  of  the  sac- 
rifice of  her  own  small  means;  and  now  the  child's  ill- 
ness would  prevent  her  earning  anything,  and  some- 
thing must  be  done  for  them  soon,  or  destitution  will 
stare  them  in  the  face.  He  spoke,  too,  of  her  superi- 
ority of  intellect  to  those  w^ith  whom  circumstances 
compelled  her  to  mingle;  and  as  a  nurse,  he  thought,  she 
excelled  any  one  he  knew  of.  When  he  reached  this 
point,  he  stopped,  as  if  waiting  a  suggestion  from  her, 
and  observing  this,  she  said: 

"  You  have  not  yet  told  me  what  your  plan  is  regard- 
ing them.  Do  you  wish  to  advance  means  to  meet 
their  present  wants?  If  so,  you  need  fear  no  opposition 
on  my  part." 

"  No,  gude  wife,  that,  although  a  very  good  idea,  is 
not  just  what  I  had  in  mind.  I  thought  we  might 
have  them  come  here,  when  the  child  is  sufficiently 
recovered;  she  could  be  of  great  service  to  you  in  your 
household  affairs,  and  w^hen  you  are  confined  to  your 
room,  as  you  frequently  are,  she  could  be  both  nurse 
and  companion.     We  have  plenty  of  room,  and  the 


102  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

child  will  not  be  objectionable;  and  as  God  has  thought 
best,  in  His  wisdom,  to  take  our  own  to  Himself,  it  will 
be  a  pleasure  to  hear  once  more  the  patter  of  little  feet 
in  these  lonely  rooms." 

As  he  concluded,  a  smile  passed  over  Mrs.  Bein's 
pale  face,  and  she  said : 

"  Well,  husband,  I  would  like  to  know  what  your 
matured  plan  would  be,  if  this  is  only  half-matured,  as 
you  call  it.  I  am  pleased  with  it,  and  feel  that  my 
work  is  being  brought  to  my  door  now  that  I  am  unable 
to  go  into  the  highways  and  seek  it  out.  Yes,  husband, 
have  them  come,  but  be  careful  when  you  speak  to 
Miss  Coil  about  it,  not  to  let  her  sensitive  nature  get 
the  impression  that  she  is  an  object  of  charity." 

"I  shall  be  careful,  wife;  trust  that  to  me,"  and  he 
went  out  to  look  after  a  sick  neighbor  before  retiring 
for  the  night. 

The  next  morning  the  Doctor  thought  he  had  not  seen 
his  wife  appear  so  much  like  her  real  self  in  months, 
and  was  pleased  with  her  sprightliness,  although  he 
knew  it  could  not  be  of  long  duration.  Of  late  he  had 
detected,  as  the  days  passed  by,  that  a  weary,  care- worn 
look  was  coming  over  her  face,  and  he  knew  her  disease 
was  making  deep  inroads. 

As  the  Doctor  drew  on  his  great  coat,  preparatory  to 
making  his  daily  round  of  calls,  she  said: 

''You  will  not  be  gone  long,  will  you?  I  shall  be 
anxious  to  hear  from  the  child,  and  of  the  decision  of 
the  young  lady;  and,"  she  continued,  "here  is  a 
basket  for  them.  Say  it  is  a  present  from  a  friend,  but  do 
not  mention  my  name  in  connection  with  it.  But  wait 
a  moment,"  said  she,  as  she  stepped  to  the  desk  and  pen- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


103 


ciled  a  few  lines,  and  coming  back  she  pinned  the  card 
to  the  napkin,  which  was  spread  over  the  basket. 

Now  ycu  can  go,  and  you  need  not  say  anything, 
but  just  leave  the  basket  where  she  can  get  it." 

The  Doctor  smiled,  as  he  took  up  the  basket,  and 
said: 

"  Gude  wife,  you  are  very  modest  with  your  name; 
not  ashamed,  of  it,  are  you?"  and  he  walked  off  as 
sprightly  as  a  man  of  half  his  years. 

Owing  to  a  serious  change  in  the  condition  of  one  of 
his  patients,  he  did  not  reach  the  tenement  house  until 
near  noon.  He  found  Nellie  so  much  improved  as  to 
be  amused  with  a  playful  little  kitten  which  Tommy 
was  holding  by  the  bedside.  She  smiled  as  the  doctor 
entered  in  his  usual  pleasant  manner,  and  in  his  fatherly 
way  inquired  how  she  was  feeling  to-day;  then  turning 
to  Tommyj  asked  for  Jane,  as  she  was  not  present,  and 
was  told  that  after  waiting  some  time  for  him,  she  had 
gone  out  for  an  hour,  as  a  man  had  been  there  twice 
that  day  to  have  her  come  to  his  house,  but  that  she  had 
left  word  that  if  he  called  during  his  absence,  she  would 
like  to  have  him  call  again  in  the  afternoon,  as  she 
wished  to  see  him  on  business.  The  doctor  consulted 
his  watch,  and  asked  how  long  she  had  been  gone,  and 
was  told  by  the  boy  that  she  had  but  just  gone  when  he 
came  in.  He  sat  for  a  moment  looking  about  the  room, 
which  he  found  to  be  a  perfect  marvel  for  neatness. 
Everything  appeared  to  have  a  place,  and  to  be  in  its 
place.  The  fire  from  the  coal  which  he  had  ordered, 
and  which  had  preceded  him,  gave  out  a  cheerful  heat 
from  the  highly-polished,  but  somewhat  dilapidated 
stove.    After  leaving  directions  with  the  boy  respecting 


104  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

the  medicine,  he  said:  ''Tell  Miss  Coil  I  will  return 
about  four  o'clock." 

He  had,  upon  entering,  set  the  basket  upon  the  table, 
and  omitted  speaking  of  it  to  the  children.  Some  time 
after  his  departure  Jane  returned,  with  an  anxious  look 
upon  her  face,  which  troubled  Tommy  somewhat,  as  he 
was  unused  to  seeing  her  otherwise  than  cheerful.  He 
did  not  venture  to  question  her,  but  watched  her  atten- 
tively while  she  busied  herself  about  the  dinner.  At 
length,  as  if  feeling  the  very  presence  of  Tommy  an 
intrusion,  and  as  Nellie  was  resting,  she  requested  him 
to  go  to  his  room  and  lie  down,  as  he  had  been  broken 
of  his  rest  for  several  nights,  telling  him  that  he  should 
be  called  in  time  to  take  dinner  with  her.  He  left  with 
evident  reluctance,  for,  with  a  child's  curiosity,  he  felt 
anxious  to  see  the  contents  of  the  basket  he  had  dis- 
covered after  the  doctor  had  left,  but  with  true  manly 
honor  had  refrained  from  looking  into  it  during  Jane's 
absence.  As  soon  as  the  door  closed  after  him,  Jane 
lifted  the  napkin,  and  read  upon  the  card,  "  Miss  Coil, 
please  accept  this  from  a  friend."  One  article  after 
another  was  carefully  lifted  out  and  examined,  while 
tears  of  gratitude  came  to  her  eyes.  When  the  last 
piece  was  taken  out,  she  discovered  a  sealed  envelope, 
directed  to  herself  and  little  Nellie  Clare.  She  broke 
the  seal,  with  a  hand  trembling  from  excijfcement.  She 
found  no  pencilled  missive  there,  but  instead  two  golden 
coins.  Jane  had  ne^^er  been  the  owner  of  so  much 
money  at  one  time,  and  that  coming  from  an  unknown 
source,  puzzled  her  considerably,  and  she  said,  ''This, 
with  the  ten  in  Miss  Merrill's  note  of  yesterday,  and 
the  other  ten  which  the  doctor  left,  makes  in  all  sixty  dol- 


ilE  LOOKED  LONG  AND  KARNESTJ.Y  INTO  THE  SMOULDERING  FIRE. 

See  page  95. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


105 


lars.  What  can  I  ever  do  with  so  much  V  and  she  seemed  • 
to  grow  apprehensive  of  danger.  "  Should  it  become 
known  to  some  of  the  inmates  of  the  house,  my  life  would 
not  be  safe  one  hour,  so  I  will  not  speak  of  it  even  to  those 
I  can  trust,  but  keep  my  own  counsel."  And  with  this 
wise  conclusion  she  set  about  completing  her  arrange- 
ments for  dinner,  meanwhile  trying  to  settle  the  problem 
in  her  mind  as  to  whom  she  was  indebted  for  this  gift, 
concluding  that  it  must  be  Mrs.  Baldwin,  as  it  evidently 
came  from  a  person  of  means,  she  being  the  only  one  of 
that  class  knowing  her  circumstances.  Janet  knew  all 
about  it,  as  also  did  Miss  Merrill,  and  this  conclusion 
was  confirmed  a  few  moments  later,  when,  upon  placing 
the  napkin  in  the  basket,  she  discovered  the  letters  "  0. 
B."  in  the  corner,  and  she  remembered  seeing  the  same 
mark  upon  the  table  linen  when  working  there. 

Tommy,  as  if  fearing  Jane  had  forgotten  her  promise 
to  call  him  to  dinner,  under  the  pretext  of  bringing  her 
the  morning  paper,  came  in  at  this  moment.  She 
questioned  him  regarding  the  basket,  of  which  he  knew 
nothing,  except  that  after  the  Doctor  had  left  he  went 
up  stairs  on  an  errand,  and  on  his  return  saw  a  man  pass 
out  the  hall  door,  and  supposed  it  was  some  one  belong- 
ing to  the  house,  but,  on  entering  the  room,  discovered 
the  basket,  and  concluded  she  had  ordered  it  brought; 
and  then  she  felt  sure  it  must  have  been  McOlellan,  and 
so  dismissed  it  from  her  mind.  As  the  clock  struck 
four,  she  heard  the  well-known  footstep  of  Doctor  Bien 
approach  her  door.  Tommy,  with  his  quick  perception, 
took  up  the  paper,  saying,  "  As  Nellie  sleeps,  I  will  go 
up  and  read  the  news  to  Grandmother,  she  loves  to 


106  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

hear  me;  and  if  you  need  me,  Miss  Jane,  please  rap  on 
the  wall,"  and  lie  bowed  himself  out  politely. 

After  the  Doctor  was  seated,  Jane  addressed  him  with 
some  confusion: 

I  asked  you  to  return,  for  I  wanted  the  advice  of 
some  one,  and  knew  of  no  one  with  whom  I  could  feel 
more  free  to  speak  than  yourself." 

"  I  am  at  your  service  for  just  thirty  minutes,"  said 
the  Doctor,  consulting  his  watch,  "  and  in  that  time  I 
wish  to  deliver  a  message  to  you  from  one  of  my 
patients." 

Jane  at  once  proceeded  to  tell  him  that  a  gentleman 
had  called  in  the  morning  in  search  of  a  housekeeper, 
he  and  his  wife  having  just  separated,  leaving  him  with 
three  sons,  the  younger  of  which  is  six  years  of  age. 
"  He  offers  a  liberal  salary,  but  objects  to  my  bringing  the 
child,  and  as  I  have  not  yet  secured  the  place  for  her  that 
her  mother  desired,  I  am  at  a  loss  what  to  do."  Here 
the  doctor  interrupted  her  by  asking  the  name  of 
the  man,  and  upon  hearing  it  gave  a  sudden  start,  and 
his  lips  grew  pale,  while  a  look  of  stern  surprise  passed 
over  his  face,  but  was  unobserved  by  Jane,  for  just  at 
that  moment  Nellie  seemed  to  require  her  attention. 

"Are  you  acquainted  with  him?"  asked  the  Doctor.'' 

"  I  never  heard  of  him  until  he  came  here  this  morn- 
ing," replied  she.  "He  said  that  a  man  living  at  Mr. 
Baldwin's  had  referred  him  to  me,  thinking  I  might  be 
glad  of  the  situation." 

While  waiting  for  Jane  to  resume  her  seat,  he  mut- 
tered between  his  closed  lips:  "  The  scoundrel.  The 
base  libertine.  The  vile  wretch.  Does  he  think  to  get 
this  woman  into  his  clutches  ?  That  shall  never  >e,"  and 


^  A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  107 

lie  ran  l^s  Kngcrs  tlirougli  his  hair  with  more  than  usual 
rapidity,    as  he  arose  and  walked  hastily  across   the  -v 
room. 

Jane,  seeing  his  restless  mood,  said,    "  What  had  I 
better  do?"    The  Doctor  re-seating  himself,  said: 

"  I  am  here  on  a  similar  errand.  I  have  among  my 
patients  a  very  estimable  lady  who  has  been  in  ill-health 
for  some  time,  and  whose  husband  is  obliged  in  his 
business  to  be  absent  from  home  a  great  part  of  his 
time;  consequently,  she  is  very  lonely,  and  there  are 
times  when  she  is  unable  to  look  after  her  household 
aifairs;  and  having  no  children  themselves^  a  child  would 
be  no  objection  to  herself  or  husband,  and  as  she  is  one 
of  my  patients,  I  think  I  can  safely  say  that  it  will  be 
a  pleasant  home  for'  both  yourself  and  the  child,  and  if 
the  child  be  fortunate  enough  to  secure  a  better  home, 
no  objections  will  be  made.  What  would  be  expected 
of  you  would  be  to  relieve  the  lady  particularly  of  her 
household  cares,  as  well  as  being  a  companion.  One 
with  a  disposition  to  do  so,  as  I  believe  you  have,  could 
be  useful  in  many  ways.  She  said  nothing  to  me  regard- 
ing the  terms,  but  you  can  see  her  if  you  wish,  and 
arrange  that  between  yourselves,  and  if  you  desire  it,  I 
will  call  and  take  you  around  to  see  her  to-morrow 
morning,  and  will  return  for  you  after  having  visited 
two  or  three  patients." 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  "I  will  try  and  be  ready. 
Nellie  is  so  much  improved  I  think  I  can  leave  her  with 
Tommy  for  that  length  of  time." 

As  the  door  closed  after  the  Doctor,  Jane  clasped  her 
hands  in  silent  thanksgiving  for  the  cheerful  aspect  her 
hitherto  dreary  life  was  assuming.    "  Surely,  said  she, 


108  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  the  good  Father  has  some  new  agency  at  work  in  my 
behalf,  and  I  thank  Him  that  if,  in  taking  that  good 
spirit  away  from  the  fetterings  of  its  clay  tenemeut  He 
has  delegated  her  a  ministering  spirit  to  guide  me 
through  the  dark  windings  out  into  the  light/' 

Jane  held  peculiar  views  in  regard  to  many  things 
pertaining  to  the  supernatural;  but  like  many  others, 
from  fear  of  being  classed  hetrodox  or  "  Spiritualist," 
had  "hid  her  light  under  a  bushel." 

Tommy,  who  had  heard  the  door  close,  took  it  as  a 
signal  for  his  return,  and  a  moment  later  found  him  at 
the  bedside.  Jane,  seeing  that  he  had  taken  charge  of 
Nellie,  busied  herself*  with  her  work.  Meantime  her 
mind  was  occupied  with  thoughts  as  to  whom  she  was 
indebted  for  the  generous  offer  of  a  home,  feeling  almost 
certain,  however,  that  it  was  Mrs.  Baldwin,  as  she  knew 
her  to  be  a  partial  invalid. 

The  next  morning  Doctor  Bien  was  there  at  an  early 
hour,  his  wife  having  urged  him  to  lose  no  time,  lest  the 
other  party  get  the  advantage.  Jane  took  her  seat  in 
the  sleigh  with  the  conviction  that  she  should  be  driven 
directly  to  the  home  of  Mr.  Baldwin.  Judge  then  of  her 
surprise  when,  instead  of  that,  they  went  in  a  diiferent 
direction,  turning  from  one  street  on  to  another,  until 
she  began  to  think  they  were  getting  a  great  distance 
from  home.  At  length  they  stopped  in  front  of  a  large, 
plain  building,  elegant  in  its  plainness.  As  the  Doctor 
assisted  her  to  alight,  he  said:  "The  lady  is  expecting 
you  to  wait  for  me,"  and  gathering  up  the  lines,  was  out 
of  sight  before  Jane  was  admitted  into  the  house. 

Mrs.  Bien,  who  had  been  awaiting  her  arrival,  on 
seeing  her  alight  from  the  sleigh,  had  sent  a  servant 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


109 


who  had  admitted  her  without  giving  her  an  opportunity 
to  notice  the  name  on  the  door-plate,  as  the  Doctor  and 
she  had  concluded  "it  best  not  to  enlighten  her  in  refer- 
ence to  that  until  a  permanent  arrangement  had  been 
eflFected,  as  she  might  feel  under  obligations  to  accept 
their  proposal  at  the  sacrifice  of  a  desire  to  do  otherwise. 

"Well,"  said  the  Doctor,  when  they  were  en  route  for 
home,  "What  did  you  decide  upon?"  to  which  Jane 
replied  by  giving  an  animated  account  of  her  prospects 
for  a  pleasant  sojourn  with  the  family,  and  that  she  had 
arranged  to  go  as  soon  as  Nellie  could  with  safety  be 
moved. 

As  the  Doctor  left  her  after  takiiig  a  hasty  look  at  the 
sleeping  child,  he  said:  "  Let  her  sleep  all  she  will,  it  is 
one  of  nature's  best  restoratives.  Oh,  by  tlie  way,"  he 
added,  with  his  hand  upon  the  door-knob,  "  did  you  learn 
the  name  of  the  family  where  you  are  going?  1  believe  I 
have  not  given  it  to  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Jane,  "  it  is  Bi-an."  Mrs.  Bien  having, 
without  intending  deception,  given  the  emphasis  to  the 
"  i "  instead  of  the  "  e,"  the  old  Scotch  pronunciation  of 
the  name  to  which  she  and  the  Doctor  clung  with  ten- 
acity, while  the  more  general  pronunciation  was  as  Bean. 
On  his  way  out,  the  Doctor  smiled  to  himself  as  he 
thought  of  her  surprise  when  she  learned  that  it  was  his 
house  that  was  to  be  her  home. 


CHAPTEK  IX. 


SCENES  AT  THE  BALDWIN  HOUSE. 

Mrs.  Geddiz  was  very  prudent  in  not  going  into  Mrs. 
Baldwin's  room  for  some  time  after  the  farewell  visit  of 
Mr.  Geddiz  and  Miss  Price,  but  immediately  after  their 
departure  started  out  upon  an  "  exploring  expedition  " 
as  initiatory  to  her  superintending  things  generally.  She 
made  quite  a  thorough  investigation  of  the  rooms  on  the 
second  and  third  iioors  before  coming  to  Minnie's  room, 
which,  upon  reaching,  she  opened  the  door  cautiously, 
and  peering  in,  she  espied  the  sick  girl  tucked  snugly 
up  in  the  great  high  bed,  with  the  curtains  looped  back 
to  admit  the  air.  "  There  now^,''  she  said,  "  I  have 
found  you  at  last,  and  this  is  the  sensiblist  room  I've 
seen  in  the  hull  house,  and  this  hed^^  feeling  of  the 
feathers,  and  turning  up  the  covers  to  examine  the  tick- 
ing, then  looking  admiringly  up  at  the  gay  curtains, 
''This — this  is  something  like  a  bed,  this  is — but  then," 
she  added  after  a  moment's  reflection,  "  them  flat  pan- 
cake-looking ones  is  good  enough  for  city  folks.  They 
don't  work  much  to  get  tired,  and  don't  need  much  rest- 
ing, or  they  never  could  live  out  half  their  days.  Tell 
me,  how  did  it  happen  that  they  ever  had  such  an  old- 
fashioned  room  as  this?  and  sure  as  I  live!  if  there  isn't 
a  real  clock.  If  I  had  knowed  they  had  such  a  room  as 
this,  you  never  would  have  got  me  to  put  up  with  that 
flat  bed;  but  for  all  that,  everything  is  real  nice — too 
nice  for  comfort — one  has  to  be  so  careful  like.  Say, 

110 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


Ill 


can  you  tell  me  if  your  Uncle  has  the  house  and  all  the 
things  in  it  paid  fur,  and  no  morg-age  on  it?  He  must 
have  had  lots  of  business  if  he  has?  Though,  I  'spose," 
she  continued,  *'his  father  left  him  sumthin';  have  you 
any  idea  how  much?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Aunty,  anything  about  it.  I  feel  too, 
sick  to  talk  much  now,"  and  she  turned  wearily  about 
as  if  seeking  rest. 

"  O,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  "  how  are  ycu  by  thi,9 
time,  any  way?  The  doctor  says  you  have^  got  the  sore 
throat  very  bad,  and  if  thafs  all^  I  can  cure  you  in  just 
half  the  time  any  doctor  can.  Til  go  right  down  now, 
and  fix  up  somethin'  for  you.  You  can  go  to  sleep," 
seeing  that  Minnie  had  closed  her  eyes,  and  was  e^d- 
dently  paying  but  little  attention  to  what  she  was  say- 
ing. When  she  reached  the  kitchen,  which  she  did  by 
the  back  stairway,  having  noticed  that  there  were  stairs 
at  the  rear  end  of  the  hall,  and  out  of  curiosity  followed 
their  leadings,  she  was  somewdiat  abashed  at  finding 
herself  in  the  presence  of  so  many  persons.  McClellan 
was  fixing  the  water  pipes,  John,  the  coachman,  was  in^ 
for  a  pail  of  warm  water,  and  Tilly,  the  kitchen  girl, 
was  dressing  the  vegetables  for  dinner,  Chloe,  the  maid- 
of-all-work,  who  was  usually  in  the  vicinity  of  the  hall, 
to  answer  the  bell,  was  there  on  an  errand  for  her  mis- 
tress, while  Janet,  the  housekeeper,  was  superintending 
the  dinner. 

O,"  said  she,  catching  her  breath,  I  thought  this 
was  the  kitchen.  I  didn't  know  they  rented  out  part  of 
the  house;  quite  a  family  of  you,  too.  Can  you  tell  me 
where  Cristine's  kitchen  is?  You  see,  I  am  her  aunt, 
and  have  come  to  visii  her,  but  seeing  as  they  are  all 


112  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

sick,  I  just  thought  I  would  take  Cristine's  place  and  'tend 
to  things  generally."  Upon  being  informed  by  Janet  that 
this  was  the  kitchen,  and  the  persons  present  were  the 
help,  "  What!"  she  exclaimed,  in  astonishment,  "  five 
persons  just  to  wait  on  them  two?  I  s'pose  you  all  eat 
here?  Well,  well,  if  this  doesn't  beat  the  Jews!  I 
should  think  you  would  eat  the  man  out  of  house  and 
home,  and  I  don't  wonder  that  Cristine's  poor  nerves  is 
weak.  I  wonder  she  is  alive.  I  should  thought  she'd 
died  a  thoiisand  years  ago.  I  know  I  should  if  I'd 
had  such  2^  posse  of  hired  help  to  work  for.  I  never 
kept  a  girl  but  little  of  my  time,  and  then  jist  one,  and 
I  found  it  hard  work  enough  to  keep  things  straight 
after  her."  By  this  time  the  highly-amused  girls  were 
neglecting  their  work  to  listen  to  the  "  que^r  little 
woman,"  as  they  styled  her,  but  Tilly,  composing  her- 
self as  well  as  she  could,  and  wishing  to  increase  her 
surprise,  for  the  amusement  of  the  rest,  startled  her  still 
more  by  informing  her  that  they  were  not  all  there; 
that  they  had  a  laundry  woman,  who  was  there  to  wash 
and  iron  three  days  of  each  week,  and  a  plain-sewing 
woman  a  great  deal  of  the  time,  besides  extra  help  in 
the  kitchen  when  Mrs.  Baldwin  had  large  parties,  which 
she  frequently  had. 

"  Well,  well,  did  I  ever!"  said  the  old  lady,  placing 
her  hands  on  her  sides,  and  looking  the  object  of  com- 
plete surprise.  "  If  I  had  only  knowed  that  there  was 
such  carryings  on  as  this  in  Cristine's  house,  I  would 
have  been  here  long  ago,  as  I  am  the  only  mother  she 
ever  know'd.  She  was  a  sickly  kind  of  a  child,  and  I  did 
not  learn  her  much  about  housework,  and  when  she 
was  a  strip  of  a  girl  about  fifteen  years  old,  she  took  a 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE. 


113 


notion  to  go  into  town,  and  work  in  the  factory,  and  she 
was  so  kind  of  headstrong  we  jist  liad  to  let  her  go,  and 
then  she  began  to  dress,  and  ride  around  with  the  boys 
and  she  got  pretty  wild,  and  people  began  to  talk  about 
her  a  good  deal,  and  some  how  or  another  she  got  in 
with  Ned  Baldwin,  he  was  our  school-teacher,  you 
know."  Then,  lowering  her  voice,  and  coming  up 
close  to  Tilly,  who  was  paring  the  vegetables,  and 
addressing  her  individually,  yet  in  a  voice  loud  enough 
to  be  heard  by  all,  she  continued:  "You  see,  he  was 
engaged  to  my  sister  Adaline,  but  somehow  or  other  she 
got  him  away  from  her.  We  never  know'd  just  how  it 
was,  but  they  do  say  she  wrote  him  letters  and  put 
Adaline's  name  onto  them,  telling  him  never  to  come 
near  her  agin'  for  she  didn't  want  no  thin'  more  to  do 
with  him,  and  lots  of  sich  stuft';  but  of  course  you  won't 
say  nothin'  about  it,  for  Cristine  is  my  niece,  you  see, 
and  she  wouldn't  like  it.  Any  way,  it  won't  do  no  good 
now,  and,  any  way,  I'm  one  that  believes  in  lettin'  by- 
gones be  by-gones,  as  the  preacher  says."  Just  then 
Janet,  who  never  allowed  Mr.  Baldwin  to  wait  for  his 
meals,  reminded  Tilly  that  it  was  growing  late,  upon 
which  Mrs.  Geddiz  remembered  her  errand  to  the 
kitchen,  so,  turning  to  Janet,  she  said,  I'm  going  to 
cure  that  girl  upstairs  of  her  sore  throat,  and  jist  save 
that  doctor's  bill,  and  when  he  comes  again  I  shall  tell 
him  he  needn't  come  any  more,  as  I  understand  how  to 
treat  that  complaint.  I've  brought  many  a  one  out  of 
it  at  Broadtop,  and  that,  too,  after  the  doctors  had  given 
them  up  to  die." 

Forthwith  she  began  giving  her  orders. 

"  I  want  a  wooden  bucket  like  that  one,"  pointing  to 

8 


114  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

the  one  John  had,  "  full  of  hot  water.  Mind,  not  too 
hot;  and  I  want  a  good  big  tablespoon ful  of  saleratus 
put  into  it;  and  next,  I  want  a  piece  of  flannel,  an  old 
shirt  of  Ned's,  or  an  old  shawl  or  suinthin'  of  that 
kind  to  wrap  round  her.  Then  I  want  some  good  ile — 
goose  ile  is  the  best — but  if  you  haven't  got  any,  a 
piece  of  salt  pork  will  do." 

But  upon  being  told  there  was  neither  pork  nor  oil  of 
any  kind  in  the  house,  she  said: 

''What  do  you  burn  in  them  lamps  upstairs?  Per- 
haps that  will  do,"  and  being  told  that  they  burned  gas, 
she  shook  her  head  thoughtfully,  and  said  in  a  per- 
plexed way: 

''  That  gas  is  something  I  know  nothin'  about,  so  I 
guess  I'll  not  risk  greasin'  her  throat  with  that."  Then 
turning  to  McClellan,  and  handing  him  some  change, 
she  said: 

"  You  go  to  a  store  and  get  me  a  phipanybit's  worth 
of  pork,  and  be  rigkb  smarts  for  I  am  in  a  hurry,"  and 
continuing  her  orders,  she  said: 

''  I  want  a  brick  het  real  hot,  and  some  vinegar  to 
pour  over  it.  I'll  just  take  the  jug  right  along  upstairs. 
O,  yes;  I  forgot,  I've  got  some  pinerial  in  my  band-box 
upstairs.  I'll  jist  run  up  and  get  some,  and  it  can  be 
steepin'  till  that  man  comes  with  the  pork.  Who  is  that 
man  anyway?"  she  asked  of  Janet,  and  upon  being  told 
his  name,  she  said: 

"  McClellan  or  McClelean,  I  think  he  is  an  awful 
lookin'  man;  I  can't  see  how  Cristine  can  have  him 
runnin'  into  her  room  every  whipsticteh.  ,1  saw  him  go 
in  there  twice  this  mornin'.  The  first  time  he  had  a 
little  bit  of  a  white  letter  in  his  hand,  and  then  he  went 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


115 


outdoors,  and  after  a  while  lie  came  back  and  went  in 
ag'in." 

To  which  Janet  replied  that  he  acted  as  errand  boy 
for  the  house,*and  made  a  good  one,  as  he  did  not  for- 
get like  a  young  boy  would. 

^'O,  that's  it,  is  it?"  and  the  old  lady  was  appar- 
ently satisfied  with  the  explanation  for  the  man's  fre- 
quent visits  to  Cristine's  apartments,  disappeared  up 
the  back  stairway,  and  in  a  few  moments  the  aroma 
from  the  "pennyroyal  tea"  was  filling  the  kitchen. 

'^Well,  now,  everything  is  ready,"  said  she,  as  Mc- 
Clellan  handed  her  the  pork,  and  you  jist  carry  it  and 
that  bucket  of  water  up  to  her  room,"  and  to  Janet,  she 
said: 

You  can  take  the  tea  and  fiannel,  I  wull  bring  the 
hot  brick  on  the  shovel;  and  Pilly,  I  guess  that's  what 
they  call  you,  you  bring  the  vinegar  jug  and  towel — a 
coarse  one,"  and  all  things  being  in  readiness,  she  gave 
orders  to  start,  leading  the  van  with  the  hot  brick  on  the 
shovel,  tipping  first  one  way  and  then  the  other,  while 
her  feet  and  the  carpet  were  in  imminent  danger  of  get- 
ting burned,  the  trio  follow^ing  after  her  being  almost 
convulsed  with  suppressed  laughter. 

"  You  see,''  said  she,  as  they  marched  in  gteady  file 
up  the  long,  winding  stairs,  "  I  like  to  have  everything 
ready  to  use  in  sich  a  case  as  this;  then  I  can  go  right 
along  without  bein'  hindered.  I'm  called  by  the  folks 
at  Broadtop  very  systematic  in  all  my  doins',  and  I 
guess  I  am,  for  I  was  bro't  up  that  way.  It  comes 
kind  of  natural  like.  O,  I  forgot  to  put  the  saleratus  in 
that  water.     Where  is  that  other  girl?    Tell  her  co 


116  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

bring  it  right  np,  as  it  is  the  very  first  thing  I  shall 
need." 

Chloe  soon  joined  them  with  the  soda-can  held  high 
above  her  head,  making  grimaces  at  the  others  as  they 
looked  back  to  hide  their  laughter  from  their  "  Cap- 
tain," as  they  styled  Mrs.  Geddiz. 

Minnie  heard  the  slow,  steady  tramp — tramp — tramp 
— as  they  came  up  the  stairs  and  approached  her  door, 
and  raising  herself  up  on  her  elbow,  she  saw  her  door 
swing  open,  and  Mrs.  Giddiz  run  with  rather  rapid  steps 
to  the  grate.  She  saw  her  brick  was  about  to  fall  from 
the  shovel,  but  reached  the  grate  just  in  time  to  let  it 
drop  on  the  hot  bed  of  coals.  Turning  round  to  take 
the  things  from  the  others,  she  discovered  that  they  had 
retreated  to  the  rear  end  of  the  hall,  where  they  stood 
enjoying  a  suppressed  and  hearty  laugh. 

Come  right  along  you,  foolish  children,"  said  she, 
'Midn't  you  ever  see  an  old  lady  run  before?" 

But  Janet,  feeling  that  it  would  not  do  to  carry  that 
ridiculous  scene  into  the  sick  girl's  room,  walked  quietly 
in,  and  after  disposing  of  her  portion  of  the  old  lady's 
concoctions,  returned  and  brought  in  the  remainder^ 
bidding  the  girls  return  to  their  work  in  the  kitchen,  as 
it  was  growing  late,  and  she  would  remain  a  few  min- 
utes to  assist  Mrs.  Geddiz. 

Minnie  was  obliged  to  submit  to  the  treatment,  and 
in  a  few  moments  was  tucked  in  with  her  arms  wedged 
down  to  her  side,  and  the  feather  bed,  which  Mrs.  Ged- 
diz declared  to  be  ^^jist  the  right  thing^^^  drawn  up  close 
about  her  neck,  and  was  tucked  in  on  either  side,  while 
the  slices  of  pork  were  bound  about  her  throat,  present- 
ing altogether  a  rather  uncomfortable  appearance. 


A  STOKY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


117 


Janet  was  then  dismissed  by  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  a 
request  not  to  wait  dinner  for  lier,  as  she  would  not 
leave  until  this  work  was  done.  For  one  long  hour 
Minnie  submitted  to  the  steaming,  with  frequent  drinks 
of  the  hot  pennyroyal  tea,  at  which  time  the cooling 
off"  process  began  by  laying  aside  one  piece  of  cover- 
ing after  another,  and  then  the  ''drying  off "  by  hard 
rubbing  with  the  coarse  towel.  At  the  end  of  two 
hours,  she  was  in  comfortable  repose. 

Mrs.  Geddiz  took  the  opportunity  to  go  down  and 
partake  of  a  late  dinner,  and  when  the  doctor  came  in 
that  evening,  he  said  he  never  had  medicine  act  so  like 
a  charm  before.  It  was  a  new  prescription  of  his  own 
and  he  was  highly  pleased  with  its  effects,  and  ordered 
its  continuance  through  the  night.  On  his  way  down, 
he  called  at  Mrs.  Baldwin's  room.  As  he  came  out, 
standing  with  the  door  partially  open,  he  glanced  up 
and  down  the  hall  to  assure  himself  that  no  one  was  in 
hearing  distance,  he  then  said: 

"  Just  let  the  old  lady  worry  away  all  she  is  a  mind 
to.  I  can  give  enough  to  counteract  it — a  sick  stomach 
never  killed  any  one.  I  will  run  up  and  change  the 
powders  now.  I  am  glad  you  told  me  what  has  been 
done,  but  if  the  object  was  to  get  the  girl  well,  the  old 
lady  has  done  the  very  best  thing  she  could." 

Mrs.  Geddiz  knew  by  what  he  said  that  he  was  about 
to  return  to  Minnie's  room,  and  made  a  hasty  retreat 
from  where  she  had  been  leaning  over  the  railing;  and 
had  heard,  distinctly,  all  he  had  said. 

''  Yes,"  said  she,  as  she  closed  the  door  softly  after 
her,  "yes,  he  will  fix  it,  eli?  and  so  can  /  fix  it,  too. 
If  he  gets  the  start  of  'Manda  Geddiz  he'll  have  to  get  up 


118  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

miglity  arly  in  the  morning.  I  do  wonder  what  they 
want  to  keep  her  sick  fur.  I  guess  its  just  to  beat  me, 
or  perhaps,  may  be  they  want  to  keep  me  here  a  long 
time,  for  they  know  I'll  not  leave  while  there  is  anything 
I  can  do  toward  makin'  the  world  better  because  I've 
lived  in  it.  But,"  she  continued,  I  reckon  I  can  stay 
if  they  want  me  to  so  bad,  without  the  poor  girl  having 
to  suffer  so  for  it.  I  guess  I  won't  dismiss  him  as  I 
thought  of  doin',  seein'  he  has  to  go  to  see  Cristine; 
anyway  he  will  not  charge  any  more  for  it,  I  guess." 

By  this  time  she  heard  the  doctor  go  out  on  to  the 
street,  and  forthwith  hastened  to  Minnie's  room,  saying 
as  she  went  in,  "  What  did  the  doctor  come  up  agin'  this 
time  fur? "    To  which  Minnie  replied: 

"  He  thought  I  needed  some  quieting  powders." 

"Did  he  give  you  one?"  said  the  old  lady,  glancing 
anxiously  toward  her  and  then  at  the  stand  where  they 
were  laid. 

"  No,"  said  Minnie,  "  he  said  I  need  not  take  one  for 
an  hour,  and  after  that  take  one  every  two  hours,  until 
he  called." 

Mrs.  Geddiz  took  up  her  knitting,  and  seating  herself, 
waited  patiently  the  opportunity  for  carrying  out  her 
plans.  She  did  not  have  to  wait  long,  however,  for  in 
a  few  moments  she  knew  by  Minnie's  heavy  breathing 
that  she  was  asleep,  and  stepping  cautiouslj^  to  the  stand, 
she  took  up  the  powders  and  hastened  to  her  own  room, 
saying  to  herself,  as  she  closed  the  door:  "  Now,  'Manda 
Geddiz  you've  jist  got  to  keep  your  own  counsel  in  this 
matter."  She  then  counted  out  about  as  many  powders 
as  she  thought  would  be  taken  during  the  night,  empty- 
ing them  into  the  grate,  and  putting  about  the  same 


A  8T0EY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


119 


quantity  of  magnesia,  which  she  invariably  carried  with 
her,  as  she  said,  "to  take  for  that  gone-like  feeling 
she  often  had  in  lier  stummick,"  then  folding  a  corner 
of  each  one  to  prevent  mistake,  she  returned  to  Minnie's 
room  and  encased  one  in  a  spoonful  of  marmalade,  and 
upon  Minnie's  awakening  just  tlien,  she  told  her  it  was 
time  for  her  powder. 

That  night  Mrs.  Geddiz  insisted  upon  sleeping  on  the 
lounge  in  Minnie's  room,  that  she  might  see  to  giving 
the  medicine  promptly;  Janet,  however,  urging  that 
she  could  care  for  Miss  Minnie,  and  allow  the  old  lady 
to  get  some  rest.  But  Mrs.  Geddiz  could  not  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  permit  her  patient  to  be  cared  for  by 
others. 

The  morning-found  the  invalid  so  much  improved  that 
when  the  doctor  came  he  found  her  seated  in  Grandma's 
old  arm  chair."  He  expressed  himself  as  greatly  sur- 
prised at  seeing  her  able  to  be  up,  and  remarking,  as 
he  glanced  toward  the  stand  and  saw  that  there  were 
but  two  powders  left,  "You  had  a  comfortable  night, 
did  you?  I  see  you  have  taken  your  powders  as  pre- 
scribed," and  after  expressing  himself  delighted  with 
their  effect,  asked  how  long  since  she  had  taken  one,  and 
was  told  that  it  was  about  two  hours,  as  Mrs.  Geddiz, 
who  had  cared  for  her  during  the  night,  had  gone  to  her 
room  for  a  half-hour's  rest,  and  was  evidently  sleeping 
longer  than  she  intended.  Whereupon  the  doctor  pre- 
pared it,  and  after  administering  it,  took  his  seat  for  a 
few  moments,  as  if  in  deep  thought,  then  rising  hastily, 
prepared  a  liquid  which  he  requested  her  to  take  at  the 
same  regular  intervals.    "  You  are  doing  nicely,"  and 


120  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

with  this  he  bade  her  good  morning,  descending  directly 
to  Mrs.  Baldwin's  room. 

It  was  never  known  what  surprise  he  expressed  regard- 
ing the  action  of  his  medicine,  but  was  seen  to  look 
back  into  the  room  with  a  smile  as  he  came  out,  holding 
the  door  slightly  open,  that  the  sound  coming  from 
Minnie's  room  might  reach  Mrs.  Baldwin's  ear,  convinc- 
ing her  that  his  powders  were  no  sham^  but  were  having 
the  desired  effect.  That  lady  having  been  quite  as 
indignant  as  the  doctor  was  surprised  at  the  effects  of  his 
prescription,  causing  her  to  give  vent  to  her  strong  vindic- 
tive nature  in  words  rather  unpleasant  to  the  doctor's 
ears. 

Mrs.  Geddiz  was  aroused  by  the  unpleasant  sound 
from  the  deep  sleep  into  which  she  had  fallen,  and  hast- 
ening into  Minnie's  room  found,  on  seeing  the  empty 
paper  lying  on  the  stand,  what  was  the  cause  of  this 
sudden  sickness;  but  she  was  not  to  be  baffled  in  that 
way,  so  after  giving  her  enough  warm  water  with  a  lit- 
tle salt  stirred  into  it  to  cause  her  to  emit  the  entire 
dose,  she  gave  the  well-beaten  white  of  an  egg,  and  saw 
her  soon  resting  quietly. 

After  Minnie  was  sufficiently  rested  to  do  so,  she  told 
her  of  the  doctor's  visit,  also  giving  her  directions 
regarding  the  liquid,  saying:  "  It  is  now  nearly  time  for 
me  to  take  it." 

"  It  is  not  very  pleasant,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  tasting 
it,  "  but  I  will  fix  that  by  putting  in  a  few  drops  of  cin- 
namon essence.  Yes,"  she  said,  as  she  turned  it  out  so 
cautiously  that  Minnie  did  not  observe  it,  putting  in 
about  the  same  quantity  of  clear  water,  "  Vll  fix  it^'* 
and  adding  a  little  of  the  essence,  gave  according  to 


En  route  for  home.    See  page  109. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


121 


directions.  The  following  day,  as  did  each  succeeding 
one  for  some  time,  found  Minnie  improving,  and  at  each 
recurring  visit  the  doctor  expressed  himself  as  well 
pleased  that  his    new  prescription  had  worked  so  well." 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Geddiz  had  made  several  visits  to 
Mrs.  Baldwin's  room,  but  each  time  had  found  her 
either  in  a  sound  sleep,  or  suffering  with  poor^  weak 
nerves  so  acutely  that  she  could  not  even  bear  a  whis- 
pered word  to  fall  on  her  ear,  and  she  was,  as  she  said 
to  Minnie,  put  to  her  wits'  ends  to  know  what  to  do  in 
poor  Cristine's  case.  The  dear  soul  is  suffering  con- 
tinually, and,  as  I  can't  talk  to  her,  I  don't  know  just 
how  she  is  afflicted,  and  so  I  can't  do  nothin'  for  her. 
If  I  could  only  stay  by  lier  niglit  and  day,  and  watch 
her  symptoms,  I  think  I  could  find  out  sometiiin'  about 
her  case;  but  jist  as  soon  as  you  are  well  enough,  I 
shall  devote  my  hull  time  to  her.  I  believe  I  can  cure 
her;  leastwtse,  it  won't  do  her  any  harm.  I  think  I  have 
discovered  the  root  and  branch  of  all  lie^r  trouble,  and 
there  is  no  use  to  be  trimmin'  away  at  the  branches  of 
a  tree  when  you  see  it  dying;  jist  go  to  diggin'  away  at 
the  roots  and  you  are  most  always  sure  to  see  the  worm 
that  is  doin'  the  hull  mischief,  so,  until  the  time  comes 
w^hen  I  can  do  sunthin'  for  lier,  I'll  jist  be  diggin'  away 
at  the  roots  a  little,  and  I'll  begin  at  once." 

Minnie,  without  the  most  remote  idea  of  what  she 
was  going  to  do,  saw  her  go  hastily  from  the  room,  and 
heard  her  heavy  shoes  clatter  down  the  back  stairs 
toward  the  kitchen.  Wlieu  she  arrived  there,  she 
found  McCleilan,  as  usual,  vrorking  at  the  water  pipes, 
and  M^alking  straight  up  to  \\\\\\,  if  slie  meant  business, 
she  said:  "  I  have  come  down  on  the  express  purpose  to 


122  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

find  out  jist  what  office  you  hold  in  this  house.  I  mean 
jist  what  you  do." 

The  man  was  at  a  loss  at  first  to  know  how  to  answer 
her.  At  length  he  said,  rather  hesitatingly,  "  Well,  I 
just  kinder  tinker  around." 

"Then,"  said  she,  '^my  candid  opinion  of  the  whole 
matter  is,  that  you  had  better  tinker  off  home,  that  is, 
if  you  have  got  one  to  tinker  to,  and  that  will  be  one 
less  for  Ned  Baldwin  to  feed,  and  one  less  to  tug  away 
at  poor  Cristine's  nerves.  I  can  do  all  the  tinkering  in 
two  hours  that  you  do  in  a  hull  day,  besides,  there  is  no 
airthly  use  in  them  water  pipes  freezing  so  mucli.  I'll 
jist  get  a  man  thet  knows  somethin'  about  soderin',  and 
let  him  fix  'em  once,  and  I'll  be  bound  they  won't  bust 
agin'  this  year,  'cause  I  will  wrap  them  with  two  or 
three  thicknesses  of  paper,  and  then  bind  a  cloth  neatly 
over  all  that,  and  as  sure  as  my  name  is  'Manda  Geddiz, 
there  will  be  no  more  bustin'  of  pipes.  There's  John, 
it  don't  take  him  all  the  time  to  feed  the  horses,  and  he 
can  do  all  that  you  do  without  any  kind  of  trouble, 
and,  as  I  am  now  mistress  here,  I'll  jist  tell  you,  you 
are  dismissed."  Then,  turning  to  Tilly,  she  said,  "  For 
the  life  and  soul  of  me  I  can't  see  what  that  girl  upstairs 
does  but  walk  around,  and  put  her  nose  in  every  room 
to  see  what's  goin'  on,"  to  which  Tilly  replied: 

She  is  the  chamber-maid.  She  makes  the  beds, 
sweeps,  dusts,  and'  answers  both  the  door  and  Mrs. 
Baldwin's  bell." 

"  Bah!  "  said  the  old  lady,  "  anybody  could  do  that; 
besides,  I'd  like  to  know  what  beds  she  makes.  I  make 
my  own,  and  since  that  girl  has  been  sick  I've  'tended 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


123 


to  lier'n,  and  Cristine  is  too  feeble  to  rise  to  have  her's 
made." 

"Well,  but,"  said  Tilly,  in  a  reasoning  way,  "  we  all 
have  to  sleep,  and  our  beds  must  be  made." 

"O,  tliafs  the  way^  is  it?  They  hire  one  to  wait  on 
the  other,  do  they?  Well  !  well  !  did  I  ever  see  sich 
carryings  on.  That  girl  can  jist  take  her  duds  and 
leave.  I  can  sweep  and  dust,  and  open  doors,  too,  jist 
as  w^ell  as  she  can,  for  that  matter.  So,  I'll  dismiss  her 
when  I  go  up.  My  way  is  for  each  one  to  make  their 
own  bed,  and  keep  their  own  room  in  order.  It  only 
takes  a  few  minutes  each  day,  and  you  all  spend  more 
time  than  that  listening  to  that  man's  talking,"  point- 
ing to  McClellan,  with  a  look  of  disgust  upon  her  face. 
"  And  about  that  washwoman  taking  two  or  three  days. 
I'd  like  to  know  what  she  finds  to  wash,  that  takes  her 
all  that  time?  Does  she  wash  for  the  hull  of  you?" 
and,  after  being  told  that  she  did  the  washing  for  the 
house,  she  said : 

"  Mighty  easy  times  you  have — get  your  beds  made, 
your  sweepin'  and  dustin'  done;  and  your  boardin',  and 
three  dollars  a  week;  all  for  parin'  a  fipw  pertaters  and 
turnips,  and  washin'  a  few  dishes.  I  guess  you  can  go, 
too,  but  you  needn't  go  jist  yet;  you  can  wait  till  Cris- 
tine is  able  to  sit  up.  Then  me  and  Janet  can  do  every- 
thing in  half  the  time  that  it  takes  for  the  hull  of  you  to 
do  it;  and  that  will  be  three  less  for  Ned  Baldwin  to 
feed;  and  poor  Cristine  will  have  some  nerves  that 
won't  be  tearin'  the  very  life  out  of  her.  Now,"  said 
she,  with  a  self-satisfied  air,  appealing  to  Janet,  she 
being  the  only  one  whom  she  had  not  discharged. 
"  Don't  you  think  I've  hit  the  right  nail  on  the  head  ?** 


124  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

but  Tilly,  ratlier  inclined  to  make  sport  than  other- 
wise, interrupted  her  by  saying: 

"  I  think  you  liad  better  discharge  the  washwoman, 
too;  you  and  Janet  could  easily  do  the  washing." 

To  which  the  old  lady  answered  with  some  asperity, 
feeling  that  the  girl  was  trying  to  impose  her  jokes  upon 
her : 

"No,  I  thank  you.  Miss,  I  don't  do  my  own  washiU^:^ 
I  am  gettin'  most  too  old  for  that,  and.  Father  (that's 
my  man)  has  too  much  respect  for  my  declining  years 
to  allow  me  to  do  sicli  hard  work,"  and  feeling  that  she 
had  discharged  her  duty  as  Mistress  "  of  the  house, 
she  said: 

"  I'll  go,  now,  and  look  after  the  sick  folks',  and  I'll 
jist  go  the  front  way  this  time,  so  as  to  tell  that  girl  in 
the  hall  that  she  is  dismissed." 

A  few  moments  later  McClellan  came  down  from  Mrs. 
Baldwin's  room,  to  which  he  had  gone  as  soon  as  the 
old  lady  had  gone  into  the  upper  halls;  arid  on  his 
return  found  the  girls  in  high  glee,  each  repeating  some 
of  the  sayings  of  the  "  Captain."    McClellan  said: 

"  Mrs.  Baldwin  fairly  went  into  hysterics  with  laugh- 
ter, when  I  told  her  we  had  all  been  discharged  by 
Mrs.  Geddiz;  and  I  told  her  everything  she  said;  and 
'twould  have  done  you  good  to  seen  her  laugh;  and  she 
said,  ^  just  let  the  old  silly  thing  talk,  and  you  keep 
right  along  about  your  work.'  So,  you  see,  girls,  we're 
all  right  yet.  Ho!  ho!  what  an  idea^  doing  up  these 
pipes  in  papers  and  rags — don't  know,  though,  but  its  a 
pretty  good  one,  after  all." 

"  Aunty,"  said  Minnie,  as  Mrs.  Geddiz  entered  her 


A  STORY  OF  REAI.  LIFE. 


125 


room,  "I'm  afraid  you  will  be  sick;  you  are  doing  too 
much  for  one  of  your  years." 

"  I  don't  know  but  I  am,"  she  said,  as  she  sat  wearily 
down,  but  I'm  bound  to  ferrit  out  the  cause  of  your 
Aunt  Cristine's  sickness;  and  I  think  I  have  found  the 
worms  that  are  gnawin'  out  her  life,  and  I've  cut  the 
heads  square  off  of  three  of  them;  and  will  succeed  if 
they  only  give  me  time;  yes,  time  is  all  that  'Mandy 
Geddiz  needs." 


CHAPTER  X. 


THE  NEW  HOME. 

"  There  is  not  much  of  your  little  stock  of  household 
goods  that  you  will  need  in  your  new  home,"  said  Dr. 
Bien,  as  he  came  into  Jane's  room,  about  a  week 
after  her  arrangements  had  been  made  with  the  invalid 
iady.    To  which  Jane  replied  in  a  somewhat  sad  tone: 

"  No,  Doctor,  I  have  disposed  of  most  of  the  heavy 
articles  to  persons  in  the  house,  and  all  I  shall  take  with 
me,  besides  clothing,  will  be  just  the  few  things  with 
which  I  feel  that  I  cannot  part,  from  the  association 
which  makes  them  almost  invaluable  to  me." 

"Take  whatever  you  wish,"  said  the  Doctor;  "  there 
is  plenty  of  store-room  where  you  are  going."  And 
looking  about,  as  if  seeking  to  assist,  he  said:  "Every- 
thing seems  to  be  ready.  I  will  send  the  team  around 
in  less  than  an  hour.  But  how  is  it  about  the  '  wee  one? ' 
If  you  think  she  would  be  content  without  you,  wrap 
her  up  and  I  will  take  her  along  now,  as  I  am  going 
that  way,  and  that  will  relieve  you  of  the  care  of  her, 
and  her  of  the  exposure  to  the  draft  when  the  goods  are 
being  taken  out." 

Nellie,  after  a  few  words  with  Tommy,  who  said: 
"  Nellie,  I  will  never  love  any  little  girl  but  just  you, 
nor  big  one  neither,  and  you  won't  like  any  of  the  other 
boys,  will  you?  and  some  day  we  will  be  big  and  liv©  ia 
a  house  aJJ  our  own^  won't  we?" 

1^ 


k  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


127 


Kellie  gave  a  ready  assent  to  Tommy's  question,  with- 
out in  the  least  comprehending  its  meaning  (like  many 
an  older  one  when  replying  to  a  similar  qrestion).  She 
was  then  well  wrapped  up  and  carried  in  the  good  Doc- 
tor's arms  to  his  carriage.  Tommy  stood  leaning  against 
the  door-casing  looking  after  them,  while  the  great  tears 
stood  in  his  eyes,  and  doubtless  great  thoughts  were 
swelling  in  his  heart,  with  their  hopes  and  fears  for  the 
future,  when  Grandma  Caruthers,  clinching  him  by  the 
arm,  gave  him  a  quick,  and  rather  rough  jerk  back  into 
the  hall,  saying  in  an  excited  manner:  Tom  Caru- 
thers, don't  you  know  no  better  nor  that?  It  is  the 
very  worstest  thing  that  you  can  do  to  watch  any  people 
out  of  sight,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  died  on 
account  of  your  imprudence." 

The  boy  looked  up,  pale  and  trembling,  as  he  said: 
''Why,  Grandmother,  what  have  I  done  to  make  her 
die?" 

"  Didn't  you  stand  there  and  look  at  her  clean  out  of 
sight? "  she  said,  "  and  that  is  just  as  true  a  sign  as  ever 
could  be  that  you  will  never  see  her  again.  I  always 
remember  that  sign,"  and  crossing  herself,  she  turned  to 
Jane  and  continued,  "  the  good  Virgin  Mary  knows  that 
I  have  good  reason  niver  to  forget  that  it  was  whin  my 
grandfather  was  to  see  us,  and  whin  he  went  away  I  felt 
kinder  bad  and  sthood  watchin'  of  him  till  he  was  clean 
gone  out  of  me  sight,  and  he  didn't  live  mor'n  ten  years 
afther  that,  and  thin  I  wint  to  London,  and  niver  was 
afther  seein'  him  agin' — not  even  afther  lie  was  dead. 
Poor  man!  Pace  to  his  ashes!"  and  she  sighed  as  if 
some  recent  affiction  had  occurred,  then  turning  to  the 
boy,  she  said:    ''Now  you  jist  remember  tiaat  warnin', 


128 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  KFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


and  don't  you  niver  look  afther  that  child  till  she  is  out 
of  sight  agin'." 

Nothwithstanding  Jane  had  told  him,  as  soon  as  the 
old  lady  had  gone  to  her  room,  that  it  was  an  old  super- 
stitious whim,  and  there  was  nothing  in  it,  it  seemed  to 
add  to  his  grief  at  parting  with  her,  although  he  felt 
somewhat  reconciled,  as  he  thought  it  was  getting  her 
away  from  Minnie. 

Eesuming,  in  a  degree,  his  former  cheerfulness,  he 
asked:  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  little  hair 
trunk  of  Mrs.  Clare's?  "  as  he  saw  Jane  set  it  near  the 
door,  with  the  things  which  she  had  reserved  for  her- 
self. 

"  That,"  she  said,  "  with  its  contents,  is  to  be  kept 
for  Nellie.    Did  you  think  you  would  like  it?  " 

"  I  just  thought,"  he  replied,  as  if  sorry  he  had  asked 
the  question,  "  that  it  would  be  nice  to  put  my  things 
in,  and  then  I  could  remember  Mrs.  Clare  by  it,  and 
that  if  you  didn't  need  it  I  would  buy  it,"  doubtless 
feeling  that  he  could  almost  purchase  a  farm  with  the 
silver  dollar  the  Doctor  had  given  him. 

"  I  have  one  just  like  it  that  I  will  give  you  to  remem- 
ber me  by.  I  have  something  else  that  I  will  give 
you  by  which  you  can  remember  Mrs.  Clare,"  and 
unlocking  the  trunk,  she  took  two  small  ambrotypes 
very  nearly  alike,  and  handing  him  one,  said: 

"  This  is  for  you.    Does  it  look  like  her?" 

^^The  very  image,  only  not  so  sick-looking.  It  must 
have  been  taken  before  she  was  sick." 

Jane,  looking  at  him  as  if  to  detect  any  nervousness, 
a^rk^d: 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


129 


"  Do  you  think  it  looks  any  like  the  young  lady  at 
Mr-.  Baldwin's?" 

"  I  was  just  thinking  she  did  when  you  spoke,  but  I 
never  thought  the  sick  woman  looked  like  A^r." 

lie  looked  a  long  time  in  silence  at  the  picture, 
evidently  feeling  deeply  interested  in  the  little  figure 
standing  by  her  side,  with  her  elbow  resting  on  her  lap, 
while  her  dimpled  chin  was  resting  on  her  chubby  lit- 
tle hand. 

''How  old  was  she  when  this  was  taken?"  said 
Tommy,  at  last;  and  upon  being  told  that  she  was 
about  three  years  of  age,  he  hastened  away  to  report 
his  good  fortune  to  his  grandmother. 

When  the  man  who  had  come  for  the  goods  was  car- 
rying out  the  last  piece,  he  turned  to  Jane,  saying: 

"  The  Doctor  said  he  would  be  here  in  less  than  an 
hour  for  you,"  during  which  interval  Jane  busied  her- 
self in  sweeping  the  walls_.and  floor  of  the  now  almost 
deserted  room.  As  she  did  so,  a  feeling  of  sadness 
came  over  her,  although  she  may  never  have  had  any 
particular  regard  or  love  for  it,  more  than  to  keep  it 
warm  and  tidy  for  her  own  comfort;  but  now  it  was 
before  her  in  its  barrenness,  silent  in  its  useless  and 
unlovely  aspect,  she  could  not  but  feel  an  absurd  sort 
of  a  love  for  it,  and  as  she  stood  there  she  wondered  if 
there  were  not  some  inanimate  objects  nearer  to  being 
alive  than  others,  and  she  almost  fancied  that  those  old 
broken  walls,  within  which  so  much  had  been  thought, 
felt  and  said,  must  have  absorbed  a  certain  subtle,  dis- 
tilled essence  of  life,  which  made  them  something 
besides  mere  lath  and  mortar,  and,  as  if  by  some  mys- 
tejdous  and  delicate  process,  the  imprisoned  spirits  had 

9 


130  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

been  released,  and  were  surrounding  and  overwhelming 
her  with  reminiscences  of  the  past,  and  she  was  oblivious 
to  all  else.  If  it  was  weakness  in  Jane  Coil  to  indulge 
in  such  thoughts,  as  it  had  been  her  home  for  years, 
it  was  no  more  than  thousands  of  her  sex  had  done 
before  her,  and  will  continue  to  do  as  long  as  the  love  of 
home  exists  in  human  hearts;  and  if  some  weak  points 
and  sickly  sentiments  are  the  outgrowth  of  that  love,  it 
is  more  than  compensated  for  in  that  one  other  out- 
growth, which  has  charmed  the  ear  and  thrilled  the 
heart  of  every  nation  on  the  globe,  our  own  America's 
''Home,  Sweet  Home." 

We  can  better  imagine  than  describe  her  delight 
when  she  learned  that  it  was  in  the  home  and  family  of 
her  esteemed  friend  Doctor  Bien  where  she  had  been 
taken  as  nurse  and  companion  for  his  inestimable  wife. 
She  had,  during  the  days  of  Nelly's  convalescing,  made 
several  attempts  to  see  Miss  Merrill,  but  in  each  had 
been  defeated,  as  Mrs.  Baldwin,  in  anticipation  of  a 
visit  from  her,  had  given  strict  orders  that  no  one  be 
allowed  to  visit  her  niece,  and  that  no  message  be  sent 
to  her  except  through  herself,  and  her  orders  were 
strictly  adhered  to  by  the  servants,  each  being  anxious 
that  Mr&.  Baldwin  should  feel  that  they  were  indispen- 
sable to  her. 

J ane,  knowing  that  her  new  home  was  quite  a  dis- 
tance from  Mr.  Baldwin's,  and  not  knowing  how  close 
Bhe  rnight  be  confined  to  it,  penciled  a  few  lines  to 
Minnie,  informing  her  of  Nellie's  improved  health,  also 
bf  her  removal  from  the  old  tenement  house,  giving  her 
the  street  and  number  of  her  new  home,  and  requesting 
her  to  call  as  soon  as  her  health  would  permit^  as  she 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


131 


had  a  message  for  her,  which  Nellie's  mother  had  wished 
her  t<^  deliver  as  soon  as  convenient,  but  on  account  of 
the  child's  illness,  when  she  had  called,  she  had  deferred 
it.  She  put  the  letter  in  her  pocket,  intending  to  mail 
it  on  her  way,  but  on  coming  out  where  the  Doctor  was 
waiting  for  her,  she  saw  McClellan  coming  towards  her, 
and  thinking  he  had  a  message  for  her,  asked  the  Doctor 
if  he  would  not  wait  a  moment.  McClellan  hastened  to 
where  she  stood  waiting,  and  his  first  words  were: 

"  Wall,  I'm  just  in  the  nick  of  time,  ain't  I?  The 
young  woman  wants  to  know  how  the  child  is  getting 
on." 

To  which  Jane  replied,  hurridly: 

"  Yery  nicely.  How  is  the  young  lady,  herself,  and 
Mrs.  Baldwin?    I  have  been  anxious  about  them." 

"  Wall,"  said  he,  scratching  his  head,  and  rolling  his 
tobacco  over  to  the  other  cheek,  "  the  gal  is  some  better, 
I  guess,  but  not  so  as  to  see  company  yet;  and  as  for 
the  other  one,  she's  very  miserable.  You  see,"  he  said, 
settling  back  against  a  post,  as  if  for  an  hour's  conver- 
sation, "she  has  that  confounded  old  aunt  of  hers  there 
yet,  and  she's  enough  to  worry  the  life  out  of  a  saint." 

But  Jane  had  no  time  to  listen  to  his  gossip  concern- 
ing Mr.  Baldwin's  family  affairs,  even  had  she  the  dis- 
position to  do  so,  and  with  her  native  politeness,  she 
asked  to  be  excused,  and  then  thinking  of  the  note  she 
had  written  to  Miss  Merrill,  she  asked  him  if  he  would 
be  kind  enough  to  deliver  it  to  her.  '  Taking  the  letter, 
he  ofiered  to  assist  her  into  the  carriage,  but  before  he 
could  render  that  repulsive  assistance  her  nimble  feet 
had  helped  her  to  a  seat  beside  the  Doctor,  and  both 
bowing,  drove  away,  leaving  him  to  look  after  and  won- 


132  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

der  where  she  had  gone,  how  long  she  would  be  gone, 
and  who  the  man  was,  as  he  had  failed  to  recognize  the 
Doctor  ad  the  same  to  whom  he  had  rendered  service  on 
the  night  of  the  storm. 

^'When  they  were  fairly  out  of  sight,  said  he,  "  I  guess 
now  is  my  time.  Providence  alius  did  favor  me  just 
when  I  was  least  expectin'  on't,"  and  with  this  he  walked 
into  the  house  with  the  air  of  one  having  important 
business  on  hand,  went  straight  to  Jane's  room,  and 
cautiously  pushed  open  the  door.  The  consternation, 
the  baffled,  perplexed  expression  upon  his  rough  face, 
as  he  looked  into  that  desolate  room,  was  almost  pitiable. 
The  echo  of  his  footsteps  on  the  naked  floor  startled 
him,  but  his  determination  not  to  be  outwitted,  caused 
him  to  rap  fiercely  at  the  opposite  door,  which  was 
opened  by  a  young  woman  who  had  recently  moved  in, 
and  upon  making  inquiry  regarding  J ane,  was  told  that 
she  had  gone  to  care  for  a  sick  lady  a  great  way  from 
there. 

^'Did  she  take  the  child  with  her?''  he  asked,  trying 
to  look  unconcerned. 

"  No,  sir,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  as  the  woman  began 
closing  the  door,  seeing  he  was  peering  over  her  head, 
as  if  to  note  the  contents  of  her  room;  "some  man 
took  the  child  away  this  morning,  who  is  going  to  raise 
her,"  and  with  that  she  closed  the  door  and  left  him 
alone.    As  he  went  out  he  muttered  to  himself: 

"Kaise  her,  eh!  Yes,  they  will  raise  her,  but  it  will 
be  after  Jim  McClellan  is  in  his  grave.  iV6>,  no,  James; 
you  are  not  to  be  outwitted  in  that  way,  and  that  by  a 
woman^^  and  lie  looked  tlie  scorn  he  felt  as  he  crossed 
over  and  turned  into  a  back  street  where  he  had  left  his 


A  STORY  OF  HEAL  LIFE. 


133 


horse  and  tlie  old-fasliioiied  close  carriac^c  which  belono-ed 
to  the  farm,  but  which  to  serve  a  purpose  of  his  own 
was  now  kept  in  the  city.  Continuing  his  muttering 
conversation  with  liimself,  he  said:  ''Oh,  but  Lady 
Baldwin  wnll  just  tear  her  hair  and  go  into  hysterics 
when  I  tell  her  that  the  birds  have  flown  to  new  nests." 

For  once  he  was  mistaken  in  Mrs.  Baldwin,  she  doubt- 
less thinking  the  reward  for  his  work  was  saved,  and 
he  was  surprised  as  she,  smiling  placidl3%  said: 

''I  think,  as  you  say,  that  it  is  all  over,  and  that  we 
have  heard  the  last  of  t/ie^n,  that  we  ever  shall.  Some 
one  will  adopt  the  little  brat,  and  to  avoid  having  her 
liear  that  she  is  not  their  own,  will  take  no  steps  in  the 
matter;  besides,  I  very  much  doubt  any  one  having  any 
knowledge  that  would  be  of  account  to  them.  She  was 
a  proud  woman,  and  I  think  she  would  bury  her  secrets 
with  her  own  proud  heart;  so  we  will  let  the  matter  rest 
unless  some  new  developments  are  brought  to  light,  and 
we  must  look  out  for  that;  and  now  you  had  better  go 
and  see  what  Janet  wants  of  you;  she  has  been  looking 
for  you  for  the  last  hour." 

He  turned  to  obey,  but  on  reaching  the  hall  he 
thought  of  the  note  which  Jane  had  given  him  for  Min- 
nie, and  he  grew^  excited  as  he  took  it  from  his  pocket 
and  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Baldwin,  exclaiming  trium- 
phantly, "  1  have  it!  I  have  it!  Here  is  the  key  to  the 
whole  affair." 

Mrs.  Baldwin  was  fully  as  much  excited  as  he,  as  she 
took  the  note  from  his  hand  and  bidding  him  lock  the 
door,  unhesitatingly  tore  open  the  envelope  and  read  its 
contents  aloud.  When  she  had  concluded,  her  excite- 
ment was  up  to  its  height,  and  after  walking  the  floor 


134  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

hastily  for  a  moment,  she  stopped  in  front  of  that  great 
rough  man — whose  motley  eyes  looked  quizzically, 
through  the  mingled  pleasure  of  his  brightening  pros- 
pects and  bewilderment  regarding  her  undue  excitement 
— and  said: 

"  See  here,  McClellan,  something  must  be  done  imme- 
mediately.  She  does  not  say  whether  or  not  she  has  the 
child  with  her,  but  that  '  message '  from  the  dead  woman 
to  Minnie,  and  she  must  not — shall  not  hearit,'^^ 

"What  are  we  to  do  to  prevent  it?"  said  the  man. 
"Won't  you  give  her  the  note? " 

"  No.  She  shall  never  see  this  note — never!  "  and  she 
fairly  hissed  out  the  words  as  if  feeling  as  deep  hatred 
toward  the  sick  girl  as  if  she  knew  her  to  be  in  league 
with  the  evil  fates  to  destroy  and  blight  her  very  life's 
hopes,  and  continuing,  with  the  rapidity  born  of  lier  excite- 
ment, she  said:  "  McClellan,  you  must  be  diligent  il 
you  ever  was  in  your  life;  keep  in  the  vicinity  of  that 
house  every  moment,  and  learn,  if  you  can,  if  she  has 
the  child,  and  if  she  comes  into  the  street  follow  her  and 
see  that  she  does  not  venture  here,  and  I  will  have 
Chloe,  under  penalty  of  a  discharge  in  disgrace,  to  permit 
no  letters  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  any  one  until  first 
brought  to  me,  and  I  know  of  no  other  way  she  can 
learn  of  her  residence  or  that  she  has  a  message  for  her." 

And  then  after  a  moment,  with  her  excitement  several 
degrees  lower,  by  seeing  at  least  one  avenue  closed,  she 
said:  "  I  believe  if  she  has  the  child  you  can  get  it  by 
saying  Mrs.  Baldwin  would  like  her  to  spend  a  day 
with  her.  You  see  she  speaks  kindly  of  me  to  Minnie  in 
^his  note,  and  yon  will  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  her 
jonsent  to  let  the  child  come,  and  when  she  has  been 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


135 


here  awhile,  you  can  go  to  take  her  home  and  then — 
Well,  you  know  what  you  can  do  then,  and  1  need  know 
nothing  of  it,  and  if  she  has  not  got  her  with  her  she 
will  tell  you  where  she  is,  as  she  will  think  we  are  inter- 
ested in  her  w^elfare. 

"  But  then  that  message,"  said  she,  growing  fairly 
purple  with  vexation,  ^'  I  wish  I  knew  what  it  was.  It 
may  be  something  that  will  prevent  our  access  to  them 
entirely.  But  we  will  risk  the  attempt,  and  if  the  worst 
comes,  I  am  ready  for  it.  See  here!"  and  she  held  up, 
with  a  maniacal  gesture,  a  bottle  labeled  "poison." 

"Ugh!  I  see,"  said  the  man  with  a  shudder;  "but 
who  would  you  give  that  to?" 

"Who  would  I  give  it  to,  but  to  myself?  Do  you 
think,  for  a  moment,  that  /  would  live  to  face  the  dis- 
grace of  bankruptcy  and  an  exposure  like  that?  Never ^ 
never l^'^  and  she  set  her  dainty  little  foot  down  with 
force  enough  to  crush  out  at  least  one  little  life.  Then, 
after  a  moment's  silence  she  bade  McClellan  go  to 
Janet. 

"  But  first,"  she  said,  "  take  this  number  and  street 
and  name,  and  I  will  also  note  it  down,  and  then 
destroy  the  letter,  and  if  it  is  ever  called  for,  you  can  say 
you  could  not  be  admitted  to  Miss  Minnie's  room,  and 
gave  it  to  me,  and  I  will  fix  the  rest  all  right.  Now  go," 
and  he  turned  the  key,  which  gave  a  clicking  sound  of 
warning  for  the  girl  Cliloe  to  retreat  from  her  close 
proximity  to  the  door,  where  she  had  been  trying  to 
catch  the  words  uttered  in  such  excited  tones  within. 
IIow  much  she  heard  no  one,  save  the  servants  in  the 
kitchen,  knew  at  that  time.  To  say  that  there  was  no 
gossip  among  them  concerning  the  many  secret  and  pro- 


136 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


longed  interviews  between  Mrs.  Baldwin  and  the  man 
McClellan,  as  well  as  that  of  the  same  lady  and  her  phy- 
sician, would  not  be  doing  justice  to  their  quick,  intel- 
ligent insight  into  human  iniquity,  and,  as  is  usual  in 
the  frequent  changes  of  help  and  the  commingling  of 
that  class  of  persons,  it  was  not  strictly  confined  within 
the  four  walls  of  Mrs.  Baldwin's  kitchen,  and  like  all 
slander,  just  or  unjust,  lost  nothing  in  its  way  out 
through  the  city.    It  is  like  the  Greek  fire  which  burns 
underwater;  or  like  the  wheel  wliich  catches  fire  as  it 
goes,  and  burns  with  fiercer  conflagration  as  its  own 
speed  increases,  and  at  length  it  found  its  way  from  the 
kitchen  to  the  parlor  in  many  of  the  homes  where  Mrs. 
Baldwin  had  been  a  welcome  guest,  and  into  other  homes 
where  she  had  been  envied  for  her  superior  style  and 
elegance  of  equipage.    Had  either  of  those  fnn -loving 
girls  heard  their  own  story  repeated  a  week  later  in  the 
parlors  of  some  of  the  elite^  they  would  not  have  recog- 
nized it,  so  immense  were  its  proportions,  and  so  densely 
black  its  hues.    But  Mrs.  Baldwin  had  been  paving  her 
own  path  through  life,  and  if  at  last  she  found  thorns 
instead  of  roses  upon  which  to  tread,  at  whose  door 
could  she  lay  the  blame?  upon  whom  pour  her  bitter, 
vindictive  spite?  and  while  the  stealthy  enemy  was 
creeping  its  wary  length  along,  tightening  its  fangs,  and 
undermining  the  confidence  of  her  friends,  building  up 
great  mountains  of  prejudice  in  the  hearts  of  those  who 
had  hitherto  done  homage  at  her  shrine,  Minnie  was 
convalescing,  and  had  been  insisting  for  some  days 
that  outdoor  exercise  and  fresh  air  would  be  far  better 
for  her  than  being  shut  up  in   the    house.  Mrs. 
Baldwin  had  said  she  could  not  allow  any  such  risks,  as 


'*  MV  CANDID  OPINION  IS,  YOU  HAD  BKTTER  TINKER  OFF  HOME." 

See  page  122. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


137 


she  considered  herself  responsible  for  her  health.  She 
had  nothing  to  do  but  to  submit  in  silence.  In  the 
meantime  sht  had  written  frequently  to  her  mother, 
and  in  each  letter  she  had  spoken  of  her  interest  in  the 
little  orphan  girl  which  served  to  enlist  her  motlier^s  sym- 
pathies, and  she  asked  many  questions,  besides  requesting 
her  to  see  that  the  child  was  cared  for  comfortably,  and 
Minnie,  although  feeling  the  restraint,  managed  to  pass 
the  time  between  her  letters,  some  fancy-work  and  Aunt 
'Manda,  the  latter  having  found  that  room  and  Minnie's 
society  more  to  her  taste  than  any  other  about  the  house. 
She  employed  herself  mending  clothes  for  the  entire 
family,  and  in  various  ways  putting  in  "  a  stitch  in 
time,"  until  she  was  considered  quite  a  useful  addition 
to  the  household.  The  potatoes  w^ere  no  longer  cut  half 
away  in  paring.  The  coffee  was  not  burned  to  a  crisp 
in  browning.  The  milk,  too,  was  set  away  in  a  cool 
place  as  soon  as  brought  in,  instead  of  being  left  in  a 
warm  room  to  sour,  and  then  be  thrown  out.  And  her 
"  superintending "  was  respected,  and  her  example  of 
neatness  and  order  showed  itself  in  every  department  of 
the  housework,  and  the  whole  atmosphere  was  divested 
of  prejudice  and  sport-making,  and  "  Aunt  'Manda " 
was  welcomed  by  all  as  she  made  her  daily  rounds. 

Meantime  Jane  and  little  Nelly  were  settled  in  their 
new  home,  learning  the  easy  task  of  loving  their  bene- 
factress, while  she  surrounded  them  with  her  patient, 
genial  nature  in  such  a  way  that  they  almost  forgot  they 
had  so  lately  been  drinking  the  "  gall  of  bitterness,"  and 
Jane  began  to  feel  so  much  in  her  natural  element  that 
she  almost  wondered  that  she  had  been  so  content  with 
her  humble  life  of  toil,  while  Nellie  took  to  the  velvet 


138  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

carpets  and  elegant  furniture,  and  partook  of  substan- 
tial food,  served  on  china  and  silver,  with  as  little  sur- 
prise as  if  she  had  never  known  aught  more  humble. 

Jane,  although  no  professor  or  member  of  any  church, 
on  account  of  the  bars  poverty  had  put  between  her  and 
such  privileges,  never  neglected  her  duty  to  her  heavenly 
Father,  who  had  led  her  in  safety  through  the  humble 
yet  dangerous  walks  of  life,  and  now  that  she  had  been 
led  through  so  many  dark  windings  out  into  the  light 
of  love  and  comfort,  her  heart  went  out  with  tenfold 
gratitude  to  Him,  and  Mrs.  Bein  saw  with  joy  the  tiny 
seed  taking  root  and  preparing  to  gl^ow  into  an  abun- 
dant harvest,  without  realizing  that  it  was  of  her  own 
sowing,  or  that  when  the  harvest  time  should  come, 
golden  sheaves  would  be  garnered  away  for  her  in  her 
mansion  of  the  "  Father's  house.'' 


CHAPTEE  XI. 


SEARCHING. 

Early  the  next  morning,  after  the  serious  interview 
between  Mrs.  Baldwin  and  McClellan,  he  started  out  to 
find  the  residence  of  "  Mr.  Byon,  one-twenty-nine,  East 
Liberty  street,"  feeling  assured  in  his  own  mind  that 
very  soon  he  would  be  in  possession  of  all  that  was 
requisite  for  the  carrying  out  of  his  plans.  He  traveled 
some  distance  through  one  street  after  another  before 
finding  the  street,  as  he  was  not  familiar  with  that  part 
of  the  city.  However,  after  he  had  found  it,  he  was  not 
long  finding  the  house;  his  first  step  being  to  get  the 
side  of  the  street  containing  the  odd  numbers.  That 
being  done,  he  started  oflT  with  rapid  strides,  doubtless 
his  hopes  picturing  in  glowing  colors  the  beautiful  little 
farm  convenient  to  the  city  which  would  be  his  when 
the  prize  was  secured,  and  his  face  beamed  with  the 
exultation  of  joy,  which  came  to  a  sudden  change  as  he 
reached  the  number  indicated  in  Minnie's  note,  and  saw 
on  the  door-plate  instead  of  the  name  "  Byon  " — that  of 
Doctor  Bien. 

"Doctor  Bien,"  he  repeated,  as  he  walked  slowly 
down  the  densely  populated  street.  "  There  must  be 
some  mistake,  and  I  guess  it's  in  the  number  of  the 
house,  for  surely  she  wouldn't  make  such  a  mistake  in 
a  name — perhaps  'twas  one-thirty-nine,  and  I'll  go  on 
and  find  all  the  niries  on  the  street."  So  scanning  every 
door-plate  until  he  came  to  three-twenty-nine,  when  he 

189 


14:0  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

found  the  name  Byron.  "Ah,  ha! "  said  he,  this  is  the 
place,  and  she  has  left  out  her  '  r '  in  the  name,  and  then 
she  got  the  wrong  number  besides.  Woman  fashion, 
guess  at  everything.  But  how  fortunate  it  is  near  the 
corner,  and  that  cross  street  doesn't  seem  to  be  much 
used,  and  from  it  I  can  watch  the  outgoings  and  incom- 
ings of  the  lady  Jane  without  attracting  attention." 
Just  at  this  point  he  discovered  a  grocery  on  the  oppo- 
site corner,  to  which  he  speedily  made  his  way.  He 
had  no  sooner  entered  the  door,  under  the  pretext  of  get- 
ting a  cigar,  than  a  familiar  voice ^  from  behind  the 
counter  called  lustily  out: 

"  Hallo,  Mack,  where  did  you  spring  from  ?  I  thought 
you  was  ticketed  through  for  ten  years." 

There  were  but  few  persons  present,  and  McOlellan 
consoled  himself  that  they  would  not  understand  the 
full  extent  of  the  compliment,  and  if  surmised,  his 
answer  would  mislead  them,  and  with  a  smile  on  his 
weather-beaten  face  and  a  squint  of  the  motley  gray  eyes, 
he  said,  cheerfully: 

''Wall,  you  see,  1  didn't  like  the  business — didn't 
agree  with  my  health,  and  I  got  a  better  chance — have 
a  position  now — one  that  pays,"  and  lighting  his  cigar, 
he  sauntered  toward  the  door,  saying:  ''Want  to  see 
you  when  you  are  not  so  busy.  I'll  walk  round  a  bit 
and  see  your  part  of  the  city,  and  call  again." 

As  he  walked  up  and  down,  he  smoked — and  thought. 
It  is  said,  by  those  who  are  addicted  to  the  habit,  that 
a  man's  thoughts  are  always  clearer  when  smoking,  and 
it  was  demonstrated  in  his  case,  for  his  plans  for  future 
work  were  fully  matured  by  the  time  he  was  through 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


141 


with  his  cigar.  Just  at  this  juncture  his  friend  called 
to  him,  saying: 

Come  on,  Mack,  the  coast  is  clear." 
As  he  came  up  to  the  thick-set,  burly-looking  man, 
he  said: 

"What,  Ben !  struck  luck,  have  you  ? " 

"  Yes,  a  little  that  way.  You  see,  I  had  an  old  uncle 
die,  and  as  the  old  woman  had  passed  in  her  checks 
some  time  ago,  and  I  being  the  only  heir,  got  their  little 
property,  which  came  in  the  shape  of  this  shanty,  and 
about  three  hundred  dollars,  so  I  thought  I  would  set 
up  shop  and  try  to  make  an  honest  living.  The  grocery 
doesn't  pay  very  big;  but  then,"  he  continued,  with  a 
shrug  of  his  shoulders,  I  have  a  back  room  and  a  room 
upstairs,  and  by  running  the  three,  I  manage  to  make 
a  living.    By  the  way,  what  are  you  up  to  now-a-days? " 

"Wall,"  said  McClellan,  in  reply  to  the  question,  "  I 
hardly  know  just  what  ofice  I  do  hold  now,"  and  he 
went  on  to  state  that  he  was  employed  by  Mr.  Baldwin 
to  oversee  two  farms  and  to  look  after  the  general  inter- 
ests of  the  house  in  the  city,  and  at  present  he  was  in 
search  of  a  woman  who  had  been  employed  by  Mrs. 
Baldwin,  who  liked  her,  and  would  like  to  get  her  back 
again  now  she  was  sick,  but  she  had  heard  she  was  liv- 
ing with  a  Mrs.  Byron — or  Byan — or  some  such  a  name, 
up  on  that  street,  but  she  didn't  like  to  send  to  the  house 
to  try  to  get  her  away;  "but,"  he  continued,  "I  know 
she  would  come  in  a  minute  if  she  only  know'd  she  was 
sick,  and  I  just  thought  I  might,  by  keepin'  a  look  out, 
see  her  on  the  street  and  speak  to  her,  and  the  folks 
know  nothin'  about  it,  and  she  could  fix  it  all  right  about 
leavin'  them,  and  have  no  hard  feelin'  about  it — no 


1^2  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

unerhanded  work,  you  see.  I  tell  you,  Ben,  I'm  through 
with  all  that  kind  of  work.  I  find  a  feller  can  be  hon- 
orahle  and  make  just  as  much  as  to  be  eternally  up  to 
some  mean  tricks." 

"  Say,"  he  said,  settling  himself  back  still  further  on 
the  stove  box,  upon  which  he  had  half  reclined  during 
the  conversation,  "  don't  you  want  some  help  here  for  a 
few  days?  I  mean  gratuitous  help.  I'd  like  to  keep 
up  the  appearance  of  doing  something  while  I'm  wait- 
ing for  the  girl  to  show  herself." 

"  Well,  I  dunno,"  said  the  man.  "  I'm  not  often 
crowded;  but  then  you  can  come  and  stay  here  and 
watch  for  the  girl,  and  in  case  of  a  rush  you  can  turn 
in  a  hand." 

^'  Well,  then,  I  will  sweep  the  pavements  and  wash 
the  w^indows  and  such  like,  and  keep  an  eye  on  the 
house  there.  By  the  way,  have  you  seen  any  one  come 
there  within  a  week  or  two?  A  woman  and  a  child? 
I  can't  say  about  the  child  though.  She  had  one  she 
was  keepin'  awhile,  but  like  as  not  she  has  got  a  place 
for  it  by  this  time." 

The  man  was  thoughtful  for  a  few  moments,  and  then 
said,  more  for  the  sake  of  being  fully  up  to  the  times 
than  from  any  actual  knowledge: 

It  seems  to  me  that  I  did  see,  just  a  few  days  ago, 
a  woman  and  child  come  there,  and  a  little  girl  from 
some  of  them  houses  over  there  has  been  in  here  for 
candy  two  or  three  times  lately.  I  never  noticed  her 
before." 

A  little  girl,  four  or  five  years  old,"  asked  McClel- 
lan,  ^^with  blue  eyes  and  dark  hair,  and  real  handsome 
like?" 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


143 


"  That's  her,"  said  the  man;  ''I  remember  just  how 
she  looked." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  McClellan,  "  I  am  your  man  for 
any  extra  help  you  may  need,  until  I  can  get  the 
woman  for  Mrs.  Baldwin.  Now,  tell  me,  is  there  any 
place  where  a  fellow  can  get  anything  to  eat  'round 
here?  It  must  be  nearly  noon.  I'll  fill  up  a  little,  and 
then  be  ready  to  take  my  situation." 

As  he  started  for  the  restaurant  pointed  out  to  him  a 
short  distance  from  there,  he  espied  at  one  of  the  upper 
windows  of  the  Byron  house  a  little  girl,  and  just  back 
of  her  a  woman,  which  he  felt  sure  were  Jane  and  Nel- 
lie. When  he  returned  he  began  brushing  around,  pul- 
ling down  and  fixing  up  again,  until  the  afternoon  had 
worn  away,  without  other  revelations,  except  an  occa- 
sional glimpse  of  the  little  white  face  and  apron  of  the 
child,  as  she  flitted  about  the  window.  But  he  returned 
home  at  night  full  of  hope,  to  report  his  good  luck  to 
Mrs.  Baldwin,  who  was  anxiously  waiting  developments. 

That  same  morning,  not  long  after  McClellan  had 
left  the  house,  Minnie  came  down  to  her  Aunt's  room, 
saying: 

"  Oh,  Aunty,  it  is  so  pleasant,  and  I  feel  so  well, 
can't  I  go  out  for  a  little  while?  In  Mamma's  last  let- 
ter she  wished  me  to  go  on  an  errand  for  her,  and  I 
ought  to  do  it  before  I  write  to  her  again;  and  I 
thought  perhaps  you  would  let  John  take  the  carriage, 
and  I  would  ask  Aunt  'Manda  to  go  with  me.  She  has 
been  shut  up  so  long,  darning  and  mending,  until  the 
poor  old  lady  looks  weary  and  worn." 

''What!"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  in  surprise.  "That 
queer,  little,  old  woman  ride  in  our  carriage,  and  with 


144  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

you,  Ned  Baldwin's  niece?  I  should  think  you  would 
hnow  better.    Bave  you  no  pride?  " 

Why,  Aunty,  she  doesn't  look  so  bad  as  she  did  at 
first.  I  love  her;  she  is  so  like  a  dear,  good  old  Grand- 
mother, and  I  am  not  a  bit  ashamed  to  go  out  with  her, 
and  if  you  are  afraid  she  will  disgrace  the  carriage  I  will 
keep  her  in  the  back  seat,  and  no  one  will  see  her.  We 
will  get  in  at  the  side  entrance.  Please  say  I  can  go. 
I  shall  only  get  out  where  my  errands  take  me.  I  have 
been  changing  her  dresses ;  have  lengthened  the  skirts, 
and  they  look  real  nice.  You  know  they  are  of  good 
material.'' 

"  But,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  "  what  will  you  do  with 
that  horrid  old  hood  of  a  bonnet.  It  is  a  disgrace  to 
all  other  bonnets,  and  is  at  least  fifty  years  behind  the 
times.  But  if  you  want  to  have  her  go  with  you,  and 
will  promise  not  to  let  her  get  out,  or  be  seen  in  the 
carriage,  I  do  not  care  so  much.  Tell  Janet  to  send 
John  here  before  you  go,  and  be  sure  and  be  back  by 
noon,  as  the  carriage  is  engaged  for  two  o'clock." 

Minnie  tripped  away  with  a  merry  step  to  make  prep- 
arations, and  inform  Aunt  'Manda  of  the  intended  ride, 
saying,  half  aloud,  as  she  went  up  the  stairs,  "  That 
'  horrid  old  hood-bonnet '  shall  not  trouble  Aunty  after 
to-day." 

As  they  entered  the  carriage,  John  said,  "  I  have  but- 
toned the  curtains  down  to  prevent  Miss  Merrill  from 
taking  cold."  After  receiving  his  orders,  Jie  drove 
away.  Their  first  stopping  place  was  in  front  of  a  mil- 
linery establishment,  where  Minnie  alighted.  As  she  saw 
Mi's.  Geddiz  about  to  follow  her,  she  said:  "  Sit  still. 
Aunty,  I  shall  be  gone  but  a  moment." 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


146 


Upon  her  return,  she  was  followed  by  a  boy  carrying  a 
large  package,  which  she  took  from  his  hand  after  she 
was  seated.  She  then  instructed  John  to  drive  around 
lialf  an  hour  or  more,  and  afterwards  go  on  to  42  Forty- 
second  street,  near  the  river. 

"What  have  you  here?"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz. 

"  It  is  a  present  for  you,"  said  Minnie,  at  the  same 
time  displaying  an  elegant,  but  plain  bonnet,  a  stylish 
cap,  and  a  handsome  black  shawl,  with  gloves  of  the 
same  hue.  With  all  of  which  the  old  lady  was  as  much 
delighted  as  a  child,  and  insisted  upon  putting  them  on 
in  the  carriage,  saying: 

"It  is  so  shet  up  like,  nobody  can  see  me  if  I  do  put 
'em  on  in  here." 

Minnie,  at  length  assenting,  she  was  soon  arrayed,  and 
the  cast-off  bonnet  soon  took  its  place  in  the  box.  Sit- 
ting up  rather*  stiffly,  as  if  scarce  knowing  how  to  con- 
duct herself,  she  reached  forward,  and  touching  John  on 
the  shoulder,  said: 

"  Mr.  John,  you  havn't  got  sich  a  thing  about  you  as 
a  little  lookin'  glass,  have  ye?  I've  hear'n  tell  of  some 
young  people  havin'  them  to  carry  about  in  their  pock- 
ets." 

But  unfortunately  for  her,  John  was  not  in  possession 
of  one,  and  she  was  obliged  to  w^ait  until  she  could 
admire  her  improved  appearance  in  her  glass  at  home; 
and  perhaps,  she,  like  many  others,  never  fully  realized 
how  far  elegant  garments  go  toward  making  the  man  or 
woman,  in  the  estimation  of  not  a  few,  and  how  crude 
ideas  and  uncultivated  manners  are  not  only  tolerated 
but  often  admired  and  imitated  when  accompanied  by  a 
show  of  wealth. 


146  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Minnie  paid  but  little  attention  to  Aunt  Manda's 
primping,  and  her  looking  admiringly  down  at  her  shawl 
and  smoothing  out  the  long  satin  ties  of  her  bonnet.  Her 
mind  was  going  on  in  advance  of  the  slow  coach  to  the 
old  ''tenement  house." 

It  had  been  so  long  since  she  had  seen  Jane  and 
Nellie,  and  not  having  heard  from  them,  she  dreaded  to 
enter,  and  she  passed  through  the  long,  dizzy  hall  to 
Jane's  room,  and  was  surprised  on  opening  the  door  to 
jfind  it  vacant.  She  went  into  the  hall  again  to  assure 
herself  that  she  was  not  mistaken  in  the  room;  but,  no, 
it  was  the  same,  and  feeling  that  she  could  not  go  home 
without  knowing  something  of  them,  she  was  reminded 
of  Tommy  and  his  grandmother,  and  although  she  had 
never  ventured  beyond  the  first  floor  of  that  densely 
populated  house,  she  had  no  hesitancy  now  in  going 
even  to  its  most  remote  and  darkest  attic  room  if  need 
be,  to  hear  of  those  whom  she  was  seeking.  On  the 
second  floor  she  passed  from  door  to  door,  receiving  no 
tidings  of  Mrs.  Caruthers,  but  instead,  received  either 
vacant  stares,  accompanied  by  a  shake  of  the  head, 
which  indicated  that  she  was  not  understood,  or  a 
roughly  spoken  answer  that  they  did  not  know  any  such 
person;  and  passing^  on  to  the  third  floor,  she  met  a 
young  man  on  crutches,  who  looked  as  if  death  would 
be  a  welcome  messenger  to  release  him  from  pain,  and 
seeing  one  of  so  different  appearance  from  those  whom  he 
daily  met,  he  paused  in  his  walk.  Of  him  she  inquired 
for  Mrs.  Caruthers;  but  he,  too,  seemed  at  a  loss  to 
know  whom  she  meant,  and  yet  he  said : 

I  have  heard  the  name.    Is  she  a  young  woman?" 

"  No,"  said  Minnie,  "  quite  old,  and  has  a  little  boy 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


147 


living  with  her.  She  weaves,  or  used  to,"  recalling  what 
Kellie  had  said  of  her,    the  boy's  name  is  Tommy." 

"  O,  yes,  now  I  know,"  said  he.  I  know  her  and  the 
boy,  too,  but  did  not  recognize  the  name.  I've  only 
known  them  as  Grandma  and  Tommy,  and  they  have 
been  very  kind  to  me.  You  will  find  them  on  the 
second  floor,  two  doors  to  the  right  from  the  landing." 

"Thank you,"  she  said,  as  she  slipped  something  into 
his  hand,  and  tripped  lightly  down  the  stairs.  Upon 
entering  Mrs.  Caruthers'  room,  the  door  of  which  was 
opened  by  Tommy,  who  said  his  grandmother  had  gone 
out,  she  declined  taking  the  chair  set  for  her,  thinking 
of  Aunt  'Manda  waiting  at  the  door;  but  made  inquiry 
concerning  Jane,  avoiding  mention  of  the  child,  remem- 
bering his  antipathy  toward  her  on  her  account.  But 
Tommy  either  could  not,  or  would  not,  give  her  any 
satisfactory  information.  All  he  claimed  to  know  was 
that  some  man  had  taken  Nellie  away,  and  that  Jane 
had  gone  to  care  for  a  sick  lady,  a  great  way  from  there, 
and  would  not  come  back  there  to  live  again.  Minnie 
waited  a  moment,  and  then  turning  to  the  boy,  she  said: 

i'  I  will  be  very  grateful  to  you  my  lad,  if,  when  you 
learn  where  either  of  them  are,  you  will  come  to  Mr. 
Baldwin's,  and  let  me  know." 

The  boy  looked  down,  turning  red  and  then  white, 
and  settling  himself  back  against  the  door-casing. 
Minnie  seeing  he  hesitated  to  grant  her  request,  said: 

"  I  will  reward  you  for  your  trouble.  Cannot  you 
grant  me  this  request?  1  would  do  far  more  for  you 
were  you  to  ask  it." 

Evidently  touched  by  her  words,  yet  with  something 
of  his  old  pert  manner,  he  said:    "  I  'spose  I  can." 


148  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"Yery  well,  1  shall  rely  upon  you,"  said  Minnie,  as 
she  went  out  into  the  hall. 

As  she  started  down  the  creaking  stairs  she  heard 
some  one  call  out  in  a  rough,  brawling  voice,  and  look- 
ing up,  she  recognized  Mrs.  Duncan,  whose  rude  and 
gossiping  manners  had  thoroughly  disgusted  her  on  the 
day  of  Mrs.  Clarets  funeral,  and  having  no  desire  to  come 
in  contact  with  her  again,  was  about  hastening  on,  when 
the  woman  said: 

"  I  heer'd  you  ask  the  boy  about  Jane  Coil,  and  that 
youngster  didn't  tell  you  the  truth  when  he  said  he 
didn't  know  where  they  had  gone.  /  can  tell  you  all 
about  them." 

This  information  had  the  desired  eflfect,  and  Minnie 
waited  a  moment  to  hear  what  she  had  to  say. 

"  You  see,"  she  said^  in  a  hurried  way,  as  if  fearing 
Minnie  would  not  wait  long  enough  for  her  to  give  full 
vent  to  her  stock  of  gossip,  "  a  man  came  and  took  the 
child  to  the  orphan's  home,  and  she  weren't  there  but 
two  days  before  some  man  from  up  West,  who  was  in 
the  city  buying  goods  and  was  looking  for  a  nurse-girl, 
had  took  her,  and  I  reckon  she'll  be  a  regular  drudge  all 
her  life;  and  as  for  Jane,  she  couldn't  pay  her  rent,  and 
was  put  out,  and  she  owed  nearly  everj^body  in  the 
house,  and  they  had  to  take  her  old  traps  or  nothin',  and 
she  has  gone."  Here  she  stepped  quite  close  to  Minnie, 
and  said  in  a  whisper,  lest  Tommy  might  hear,  as  he 
was  still  at  the  door.  "  Gone  to  take  care  of  a  sick 
woman,  so  they  say,  but  I  have  my  opinion  about  where 
she  has  gone  to.  Come  into  my  room,  can't  you?  and 
I  will  tell  you  some  other  things  about  her,  for  more 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


149 


than  you  have  been  deceived  about  her  and  that  Mrs. 
Clare  that  died." 

Here  Minnie  begged  to  be  excused,  saying  she  could 
not  wait  to  hear  more,  but  if  she  could  tell  her  where 
Jane  was  she  would  like  to  have  her  do  so. 

"Well,  I  will,"  said  the  woman;  but  just  let  me  tell 
you.  I  can  go  along  with  you  down  to  the  door,"  and 
turning  her  filthy  apron  the  other  side  out,  and  pulling 
down  her  ragged  sleeves  over  her  coal-smutted  arms 
and  trying  to  keep  pace  with  Minnie  as  she  went  down 
the  steps,  as  if  hurrying  to  escape  hearing  the  repulsive 
gossip,  while  the  woman  continued:  You  heard  what 
that  landlord  said  about  Mrs.  Clare  the  day  of  the  funeral, 
didn't  you?  And  I  think  he  was  about  right,  and  that 
Jane  and  her  was  about  alike  in  that  respect;  and  that 
sick  woman  she  has  gone  to  take  care  of  is  all  a  sham. 
She  has  gone  to  better  quarters.  You  see,  we  were  a 
little  too  sharp  for  her  here,  and  she  began  to  suspect 
that  we  was  findin'  her  out,  so  she  pulled  up  stakes  and 
lit  out  one  stormy  day,  and  there  is  no  sick  woman  in 
the  case.  She  went  with  a  Tnan^  and  one,  too,  that  has 
been  seen  in  her  room  more  than  once." 

Her  last  evil  insinuations  were  lost  to  Minnie's  ear, 
for  she  sprang  away  from  her  as  from  a  ravenous  beast. 
She  closed  the  door  of  the  carriage  after  her  with  a  bang 
which  startled  Aunt  'Manda  out  of  the  reverie  into  which 
she  had  fallen  during  her  protracted  absence. 

"Well!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  "  I  thought  you  was 
never  coming  out  of  tliat  miserable  old  house.  Why  ! 
goodness  gracious,  child!  what  is  the  matter?  Did  they 
try  to  kill  you  or  rob  you,  or  what  is  it?    You  are  as 


160  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

white  as  a  sheet;  not  even  a  speck  of  color,  even  in  your 
lips.    Do  tell  what  it  is?" 

Minnie  would  rather  not  have  been  compelled  to  give 
any  answer,  and  yet  she  could  not  treat  "Aunt  'Manda  " 
with  incivility,  and  to  explain  was  more  than  she  thought 
best  to  do  at  present,  so  with  as  much  composure  as  she 
could  command,  she  replied: 

I  am  greatly  disappointed  and  quite  tired,  having 
been  clear  to  the  third  floor.  The  person  whom  I  called 
to  see  has  moved,  and  I  could  find  no  one  who  could 
tell  me  w^here  she  is." 

"  It  is  too  bad,"  said  the  old  lady,  and  after  a 
moment's  pause,  she  asked,  "  Is  it  a  man  or  a  woman 
who  has  moved  away  ? " 

Minnie  caught  the  ridiculousness  of  the  question,  and 
looking  into  the  old  lady's  face,  answered  only  with  one 
of  her  clear,  rippling  laughs,  which  brought  the  rosey 
tint  back  to  her  cheek.  The  old  lady  looked  at  her  a 
moment,  and  then,  shrugging  up  her  plump  shoulders, 
saidj  "  O,  I  see,  1  see." 

The  ride  home  was  shortened  by  taking  a  nearer 
route  than  the  one  by  which  they  came,  Minnie  trying 
to  overcome  her  disappointment,  which  she  found  only 
increased  as  she  neared  home,  and  thought  of  the  fruit- 
less search.  Even  Aunt  'Manda's  childish  delight,  as 
she  stood  by  the  mirror  in  the  long  hall,  failed  to  enlist 
her  attention.  She  surveyed  herself  on  all  sides,  step- 
ping back  a  few  paces,  and  then  approaching  nearer 
again,  as  if  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  any  one  save 
herself,  and  the  thought  how  Jonathan  Geddiz  and  the 
people  at  Broadtop  would  be  surprised  at  the  wonderful 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


151 


change  wrought  in  her  appearance  by  a  few  noonths  of 
city  life. 

Why,"  she  said,  turning  to  Minnie,  "  I  look  so  dif- 
ferent like,  jist  as  if  there  had  been  twenty  years  took 
right  ofi  en  my  head,  and  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  to  stand 
forninst  any  woman  at  Broadtop,  for  the  very  best  of 
'em  never  looked  any  better  than  I  do  this  blessed 
minute." 

Minnie  left  her  to  take  what  comfort  she  could  from 
the  mirror  on  the  wall  and  the  one  in  her  brain,  as  she 
was  seeing  in  the  latter  the  envious  eyes  at  Broadtop 
turned  toward  her  when  she  should  again  enter  the 
little  frame  cliurch,  where  for  years  she  had  been  a 
devout  worshipper,  in  the  little  hood-shaped  bonnet, 
w^hich  M^as  now  to  be  discarded;  and  she  took  it  up,  and 
turned  it  over  and  looked  at  it,  as  she  had  done  before, 
with  something  of  the  saine  reverence  with  which  we  fold 
the  hands  of  dear  old  friends  when  they  have  passed  into 
that  silence  which  awaits  us  all,  or  look  over  their  pre- 
cious treasures  after  they  have  passed  into  the  beyond. 
Reader,  was  it  ever  your  sad  task  to  open  up  such  treas- 
ures, and  find  here  a  pressed  flower,  and  there  a  tiny  curl  or 
braid  of  hair,  and  then  some  rare  gem  of  thought,  pen- 
cilled in  an  hour  of  sorrow  or  despair,  and  you  have 
almost  felt  the  very  pang  which  gave  inspiration  to  the 
thought?  If  so,  you  will  know  how  many  lessons  may 
be  taught,  how  many  sermons  preached,  and  how  many 
weights  of  sorrow  lightened  by  those  inanimate  treas- 
ures, and  cease  to  wonder  at  their  being  prized  by  many 
hearts. 

"  I  guess,"  she  said,  as  she  laid  it  down  with  a  sigh, 


152  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  I  had  better  keep  it.  It  may  come  liandy  lots  o'  times 
in  rainy  weather,  and  sich  like." 

Minnie  went  to  her  room,  feeling  that  all  the  plans 
for  the  future  of  little  Nellie,  which  she  had  made 
during  her  illness,  and  her  bright  hopes  of  the  morning 
of  carrying  them  out,  had,  like  the  apples  of  Sodom, 
turned  to  ashes  in  her  very  grasp.  After  spending 
some  moments  in  striving  to  reconcile  herself  to  the 
disappointment  without  any  degree  of  success,  she  set 
her  foot  firmly  down,  saying,  with  great  emphasis,  "  I 
will  find  them.  I  will  visit  every  orphan's  home  in  the 
city.  I  will  advertise  for  them.  I  will  call  at  every 
doctor's  office,  and  learn  the  residence  of  every  invalid 
and  ask  the  name  of  every  nurse,  and  if  I  can  find  Jane 
I  shall,  through  her,  learn  wher.e  the  child  is;  and  with 
the  thought  of  visiting  the  physicians'  offices  came  the 
rembrance  of  Dr.  Bien,  and  quick  as  thought  she  flew 
to  her  Uncle's  library,  to  learn  from  the  directory  his 
office  or  place  of  residence,  and  running  her  eye  down 
page  after  page,  in  an  excited,  nervous  manner,  she 
was  some  time  in  finding  it,  passing  over  it  in  her 
eagerness,  but  in  going  back  and  coming  down  again 
more  slowly,  she  soon  saw  "  Doctor  A.  Bien,  office  and 
residence  East  Liberty  Street,  No.  129." 

"  There,"  she  said,  laying  down  the  book,  "  I  have 
just  hit  on  the  right  plan,  because  the  good  Doctor 
would  never  lose  sight  of  them  for  whom  he  has  mani- 
fested so  much  interest."  Then,  consulting  the  map  of 
the  city,  to  learn  in  what  direction  to  find  the  street, 
she  walked  from  room  to  room,  waiting  with  patience 
for  Mrs.  Baldwin  to  go  out  for  her  ride,  knowing  that 


See  here!  "^and  she  held  up  with  a  maniacal  gestuke  a 

BOTTLE  LABELED     POISON."    See  page  135. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE 


153 


she  would  oppose  tlie  rash  act,  which  her  own  judgment 
would  have  condemned  under  less  excitement. 

''I  will  go,  delays  are- dangerous,"  she  said,  as  she 
donned  hastily  her  warmest  wraps.  The  walk  proved 
longer  than  she  had  anticipated,  and  before  there  were 
any  indications  of  her  being  near  the  street  she  became 
very  weary,  and  almost  regretted  not  having  waited 
until  another  day,  when  she  might  have  taken  the  car- 
riage. At  length  from  an  avenne  she  came  suddenly 
upon  the  street,  to  find  that  she  had  gone  much  further 
than  was  necessary.  She  did  not,  however,  stop  to 
regret  this  slight  mistake,  but  quickening  her  pace,  she 
hurried  along,  passriig'  men,  women  and  children,  but 
taking  heed  of  nothing,  until  she  suddenly  came  upon 
a  man  standing  in  the  center  of  the  pavement,  with  a 
basket  of  vegetables,  which  he  was  evidently  going  to 
put  in  a  wagon  near  by,  when  he  seemed  to  have  caught 
sight  of  something  at  the  upper  window  of  the  house 
opposite  which  held  him  spell-bound  and  riveted  to 
the  spot,  for  he  neither  moved  or  looked  up  as  she  passed 
him,  and  she  said,  almost  aloud,  "  If  there  isn't  that 
awful  man,  McClellan,  again,  or  are  there  a  dozen  or 
more  of  them  in  the  city?  Why  is  it  that  I  cannot 
take  one  step  without  coming  upon  him?  But  he  has 
not  followed  me  this  time,"  she  continued,  as  she 
hastened  on.  "  1  have  not  seen  him  about  the  house 
for  some  days;  perhaps  he  is  employed  as  deliverer  of 
goods  for  that  house,  and  that  would  account  for  his 
being  in  different  parts  of  the  city,"  and  with  this  solu- 
tion of  the  problem,  she  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of 
the  street,  and  ascended  the  flight  of  broad  granite  steps 
of  the  house  bearing  the  number  she  was  seeking.  With 


154  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

some  hesitancy  she  gave  the  bell  a  pull,  which  was  no 
sooner  done  than  the  door  flew  open,  and  a  clear,  ring- 
ing little  voice  cried  out,  Oh,  Aunty-Mamma,  you  did 
come,  didn't  you?"  I  was  so  afraid  you  couldn't  find 
us,  it  is  so  far  away  from  Tommy  and  everybody,"  and 
she  clasped  her  arms  around  Minnie's  neck,  as  she 
stooped  to  imprint  a  kiss  upon  the  lips,  which  had 
spoken  words  that  reached  that  tender  feeling  in  her 
heart  so  closely  allied  to  "  Mother  love."  Leading  the 
way  into  a  pleasant  little  sitting-room,  she  said,  "  Mrs. 
Doctor  is  real  sick.  She  was  just  sitting  in  her  chair, 
where  she  always  sits,  and  was  talking  to  Jane,  when 
the  great  big  blood  just  came  pouring  out  of  her  mouth, 
and  Jane  and  the  Doctor  are  making  it  stop;  and  they 
sent  me  in  here,  and  I  was  looking  out  the  window  and 
saw  you  come  over  here,  and  I  thought  it  was  you,  but 
I  couldn't  see  your  face,  for  your  vail  was  so  tight  over 
it,  and  I  was  glad,  for  something  in  here,"  laying  her 
hand  over  her  heart,  said  it  was  you, and  so  it  is,  isn't 
it?"  And  she  nestled  up  close  to  her,  as  if  wishing  to 
feel  some  loving  arms  about  her.  "  And  O,"  she  con- 
tinued, in  a  subdued  tone,  as  she  felt  the  press  of  love 
which  Minnie  gave,  "  I  have  been  so  hungry  to  see  you; 
and  some  nights,  when  it  is  all  dark  and  everybody  is 
asleep,  you  and  Mamma  both  come  where  I  am,  and.one 
night  I  heard  you  tell  Mamma  you  would  be  my  Aunty- 
Mamma,  and  that's  why  I  called  you  that.  Was  it 
really,  truly  so?  Jane  says  I  just  dreamed  it  in  my 
sleep." 

At  this  moment  Jane,  in  passing  through  the  hall^ 
heard  the  little,  prattling  voice,  and  looked  in  to  see  to 
whom  she  was  talking,  and  was  both  pleased  and  sur- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


155 


prised  to  see  Minnie  sitting  on  a  low  rocker  in  front 
of  the  grate,  with  her  arm  about  Nellie's  w^aist, 
and  looking  fondly  into  the  little  upturned  face. 
She  greeted  Minnie  with  grace  and  dignity,  yet 
it  was  manifestly  evident  that  she  had  not  forgotten 
that  she  was  Jane  Coil,  saying,  as  she  drew  her  chair 
near  her,  "Then  you  received  my  note?  I  was  afraid 
McClellan  would  forget  it,  as  he  has  so  many  errands 
to  perform." 

"  I  have  received  no  word  from  you,"  Minnie  replied, 
"  and  my  finding  you  is  the  result  of  my  perseverance.'^ 
And  then  she  told  of  her  illness,  and  how  anxious  she 
had  been  to  hear  from  her  during  all  those  long  days, 
and  of  her  search  of  the  morning,  yet  carefully  avoiding 
any  allusion  to  her  meeting  with  Mrs.  Duncan,  knowing 
better  than  many  of  more  experience  that  hearts  strug- 
gling with  sorrow  and  adversity  need  the  gentle  touch 
of  kindness,  rather  than  the  rude,  unfeeling  hand  which 
so  often  delights  in  tearing  open  old  wounds  or  creating 
new  ones.  So  she  merely  said,  ''Mrs.  Caruthers  was  out, 
and  Tommy  could  tell  me  nothing  of  you." 

At  this  point  in  the  conversation,  Jane,  hearing  the 
Doctor  call,  asked  to  be  excused,  as  Mrs.  Bein  needed 
her  entire  time  at  present,  but  stopping  for  a  moment, 
she  said,  "  I  hope  you  can  return  soon,  as  1  have  a  mes- 
sage that  I  have  promised  to  deliver  to  you,  from  the 
mother  of  that  child." 

As  she  left  the  room,  Nellie,  who  had  been  an  atten- 
tive listener  to  the  conversation,  came  up  to  Minnie 
again,  s?ying:  ''Did  you  see  Tommy?  I  wish  I  could 
see  him,  he  is  so  good."  A  few  moments  later  the  Doc- 
tor cam^  in,  and  after  a  brief  conversation  with  Minnie, 


156  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

in  which  she  imparted  to  him  an  account  of  her  recent 
illness,  her  fatigue  from  the  long  walk,  stating  that  her 
desire  to  see  the  child  had  been  the  incentive  for  her 
imprudence  in  overtaxing  her  strengtli,  and  then  she 
freely  told  him  of  her  strange  and  deep  interest  in 
Nellie. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  Jane  said  you  looked  weary 
and  about  sick,  and  wished  me  to  see  you,  and  I  think 
you  will  need  something  to  quiet  your  nerves  before  you 
can  rest  from  this  extreme  fatigue,  and  I  will  prepare 
you  some  powders."  And  as  he  went  out  he  added: 
"  My  boy  will  take  you  home." 

He  soon  returned  from  his  office,  and  handing  Minnie 
a  small  package  with  directions,  he  said :  "  It  is  a  long 
way,  and  you  must  not  undertake  to  walk  it  again.  If 
I  knew  when  you  could  come  and  spend  a  day  with  us 
I  would  send  for  you." 

"  I  could  come  at  any  time,"  she  replied,  "  %s  my  time 
is  altogether  at  my  own  disposal ;  but  as  you  are  strang- 
ers to  my  aunt,  who  being  rather  peculiar  in  many  ways, 
might  object  to  such  an  arrangement." 

Does  she  not  know  of  your  being  here  at  this  time? " 
said  the  Doctor,  and  when  Minnie  informed  him  that 
she  did  not  she  felt  constrained  to  open  up  to  him  the 
whole  of  her  adventurous  experience  regarding  the  influ- 
ence which  her  love  for  the  child  had  brought  about, 
and  this  she  did  in  such  a  frank  way  and  child-like  man- 
ner, giving  the  details  of  each  meeting,  that  the  Doctor 
felt  strangely  drawn  toward  her,  although  he  did  not 
approve  of  her  clandestine  visits  being  continued,  saying: 

^'  I  would  gladly  welcome  you  here  to  visit  Jane  and 
Nellie,  but  my  advice  in  the  premises  would  be  that  you 


Upon  her  return  she  was  followed  by  a  boy  carrying  a  large 
PACKAGE.    See  page  145. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


157 


speak  to  your  Aunt  about  it,  and  she  will  undoubtedly 
aid  you  in  whatever  you  may  wish  to  do  in  regard  to 
seeing  or  caring  for  this  little  waif,  and  until  you  have 
gained  her  consent  I  feel  that  it  would  not  be  best  for 
you  to  repeat  the  visit.'- 

Minnie's  own  conscience  had  often  condemned  her  on 
account  of  the  seeming  deception,  and  yet  she  excused 
herself  upon  the  grounds  that  she  ha'd  not  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  stating  the  facts  to  her  Aunt;  and  now,  as  the 
Doctor  had  disapproved  of  it,  and  had  advised  her  to 
discontinue  her  visits  until  she  could  gain  her  Aunt's 
consent,  she  went  to  her  own  room  with  mingled  feel- 
ings of  chagrin  and  despair,  which  was  deeply  augmented 
by  the  overtaxed  condition  of  her  nerves.  She  retired 
for  the  night  feeling  that  she,  like  a  drifting  vessel,  had 
been  torn  from  her  moorings — all  hope  of  her  consum- 
mating her  plans  seemed  to  be  suddenly  and  as  effect- 
ually cut  off  as  if  she  had  been  shut  up  in  a  subterranean 
vault.  Turn  her  mind  in  what  direction  she  would, 
utter  darkness  aiid  an  impenetrable  wall  met  her  gaze. 
At  last  the  opiate  which  the  Doctor  had  given  her  to 
take  upon  retiring,  had  its  desired  effect,  and  she  folded 
her  arms  as  if  clasping  some  little  form,  and  in  almost 
inarticulate  murmurings,  said:  "My  own  dear  Nellie. 
All  mine  forever." 


CHAPTER  XIl 


FITFUL  MOODS. 

For  some  days  after  Minnie's  wait  tene  ^ais^  oWA^d  to 
keep  her  room,  a  nervous  debility,  with  its  a^.company- 
ing  depression  of  spirits  had  set  in^  and  Aunt  'Manda 
found  her  services  once  more  in  demand,  while  Mrs. 
Baldwin  was  daily  looking  about  for  some  means  by 
which  she  could  get  rid  of  her.  She  imagined  that  she 
was  in  the  way  of  her  getting  out,  or  entertaining  com- 
pany as  she  was  wont  to  do,  and  somehow  or  other  Mc- 
Clellan  imagined  that  she  was  a  barrier  to  the  carrying 
out  of  his  plans,  and  said  to  Mrs.  lialdwin,  when  talking 
of  the  matter. 

I'm  bound  to  rout  her  out  at  all  hazards,"  and  not 
many  days  after  that  Aunt  'Manda  was  the  recipient  of 
a  telegram,  calling  her  home,  for  little  Jonathan  was 
dead. 

The  deeply-afflicted  old  lady  felt  better  to  go  home  to 
the  house  of  mourning  clad  in  the  old  familiar  garments; 
so  the  new  bonnet  and  shawl  were  put  carefully  in  a 
trunk,  which  Minnie  gave  her  in  order  to  relieve  her  of 
her  almost  endless  variety  of  boxes  and  bundles;  so, 
after  many  instructions  to  the  girls,  and  thanks  to  the 
entire  family  for  their  kindness  to  her,  she  left  the  Bald- 
win house  to  return  to  it  no  more. 

A  few  days  afterward  Minnie  received  the  envelop^ 
she  had  addressed  to  herself  and  given  to  Aunt  'Manda 

158 


A  6T0RT  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


159 


with  a  request  that  she  inform  her  as  soon  as  convenient 
of  her  safe  arrival  home.  It  contained  only  a  few  lines, 
written  in  a  scrawling  hand,  saying: 

Little  Jonathan  isn't  dead  a  bit,  and  never  was,  and  'Lijah,  that's  our  boy, 
says  he  can  see  through  it  jist  as  easy  as  can  be,  and  I  guess  lie  can,  too;  but 
we  don't  biame  you,  nor  the  girls,  nor  John,  nor  Ned  Baldwin.  But  it  isn't 
always  best  to  speak  one's  mind.  I've  got  eyes  and  ears  too  in  my  head,  but 
I  am  one  to  let  '*  by-gones  be  by-gones,"  and  I'm  kinder  glad  after  all  to  get 
home,  even  if  little  Jonathan  wasn't  dead.  He  was  the  first  person  1  sot  eyes 
on.  There  he  was,  making  a  big  snow  man,  most  as  big  as  his  Grandpa.  I 
would  like  to  have  you  come  to  see  us  sometime  if  we  had  more  room,  but 
somehow  it  seems  as  if  the  house  had  kinder  shrunk  up  like,  since  I  have 
been  gone.  But  I  must  close.  Good-by;  from 

AUNT  'MANDY. 

It  was  some  days  after  this  that  Minnie  left  her 
room,  cherishing  a  feeling  that  she  would  not  be  wel- 
come at  Doctor  Bien's  without  her  Aunt's  consent,  and 
yet  there  was  no  opportunity  offered  'her  for  broaching 
the  subject  to  her;  "  besides,"  she  said,  "  she  is  so  fidgety 
about  many  things,  and  this  will  seem  so  foolish  to  her 
that  I  cannot  hope  that  she  will  give  it  her  sanction, 
especially  if  I  tell  her  that  I  wish  to  take  the  child 
home  with  me,  and  in  that  case  I  shall  have  to  give  up 
seeing  them  again,  or  go  against  her  will.  I  do  wish 
Mother  was  here,"  she  continued,  or  some  one  in 
whose  love  and  confidence  I  could  trust  the  secret  of 
this  strange  love  and  interest,  and  whose  advice  I  could 
rely  upon  in  this  perplexity,"  then,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  she  said:  "  I  will  go  to  Aunty,  and  see  what 
she  has  to  say;  at  least  that  can  do  no  harm,"  and  with 
this  she  bathed  her  face,  and  smoothing  her  hair, 
hastened  to  Mrs.  Baldwin's  room,  to  find  that  she  had 
gone  out,  and,  as  Janet  said,  would  not  return  before 
the  dinner  hour.  At  the  table  that  evening,  Minnie 
met  her  for  the  first  time  since  two  weeks  before,  when 


160  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

she  had  asked  her  consent  to  take  Aunt  'Manda  with 
her  in  the  carriage. 

Mrs.  Baldwin  did  not  seem  to  notice  that  Minnie  was 
greatly  changed  by  her  long  confinement  to  the  house. 
The  roses  were  faded  from  her  cheeks,  her  eyes  were 
sunken,  and  had  a  listless,  weary  expression,  which 
greatly  disturbed  Uncle  Ned,  and  he  expostulated  with 
her  for  not  getting  out  and  taking  proper  exercise. 

'^Tliank  you.  Uncle,"  she  said,  ''I  will  try  in  the 
future  to  take  your  good  advice."  As  he  left  the  table 
he  walked  up  behind  her  chair,  and  placing  a  hand  on 
each  soft,  pale  cheek,  drew  her  back,  and  kissing  her, 
said,  "  I  cannot  afford  to  have  this  little  chick  grow  so 
pale  and  thin.  You  must  ride  out  every  day,  and  get 
your  roses  back  before  your  Father  and  Mother  come. 
It  will  not  do  for  them  to  find  you  looking  so  white. 
They  will  not  want  to  trust  you  longer  to  Uncle  Ned's 
keeping,  and  you  know  you  are  filling  a  great  space 
here  since  Nellie  left  us.  By-the-way,"  he  said,  reseating 
himself,  "  did  you  see  her  last  letter?  They  are  having  a 
nice  time  in  Paris,  dressing,  sight-seeing,  and  attending 
operas,  etc.,  meantime  drawing  upon  my  generosity  to 
help  them  through.  Nellie  is  like  her  good  Mother 
here,  never  could  deny  herself  the  least  bit  of  pleasure. 
But  it  is  all  right^^^  said  he,  as  he  rose  to  leave,  "  and  I 
am  glad  she  is  happy,"  and  he  went  out,  little  dreaming 
that  his  luxuriant  home  was  in  very  truth  a  prison  to 
that  young,  warm  hearted  girl — a  prison  whose  warden 
was  as  cold  and  heartless  as  its  frescoed  walls.  Mrs. 
Baldwin  seemed  perfectly  oblivious  to  all  that  was 
going  on.  She  had  all  through  the  hour  been  silent 
and  morose,  or  fitful  and  peevish,  and  as  Mr.  Baldwin 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE.  161 

left  the  room,  bhe  rose  and  followed  after,  as  if  to  speak 
to  him,  but  instead  of  so  doing,  went  directly  to  her 
own  room,  leaving  Minnie  to  conjecture  the  cause  of 
this  strange  mood.  Her  Aunt's  coldness  and  her 
Uncle's  kindness  had  wrought  upon  her  nerves,  and  the 
conflicting  influence  rendered  her  unable  to  control  her 
overwrought  feelings,  and  she  wept  without  restraint, 
and  when  Janet  came  in  to  remove  the  cloth,  and  found 
her  in  tears,  she  felt  a  sympathy  she  dare  not  express. 
She  had  herself  encountered  the  ill-temper  of  the  woman 
on  her  return  home,  and  felt  sure  that  she  had  l)een 
venting  herself  still  further  on  her  niece. 

Minnie,  observing  that  she  was  attracting  the  atten- 
tion of  the  girl,  sought  the  retirement  of  her  own  room. 
As  she  entered  the  hall  ghe  saw  McClellan  coming  from 
her  Aunt's  room,  and  as  he  closed  the  door  she  heard 
him  muttering: 

^^It's  all  up,  that's  sure;  and  there  is  no  use  foolin' 
round  any  longer.  Two  whole  weeks  gone  to  the  dogs, 
while  I  might  been  earning  better  wages,"  concluding 
with  words  which  sounded  to  Minnie  strongly  tainted, 
with  profanity.  She  knew  nothing  of  the  cause  of  his 
ill-tempered  remarks,  and  cared  less.  Yet  his  coarse 
language  grated  harshly  upon  her  refined  ears.  She 
regretted  much  not  having  had  an  opportunity  to  talk 
with  her  Aunt,  and  after  some  time  striving  to  become 
reconciled  to  what  seemed  to  be  an  inevitable  fate,  and 
wait  until  her  parents — her  rightful  advisers — should 
come. 

She  was  about  to  yield  herself  up  the  quiet  of  other 
thoughts  when  intense  rebellion  took  possession  of  her 
and  she  spang  up  saying:    "  No!    Minnie  Merrill,  you 


162  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

must  not  procrastinate  in  this  way.  Who  knows  but 
long  before  they  come  Mrs.  Bien  may  be  in  her  grave, 
and  Jane  and  the  child  be  beyond  yonr  reach."  Then 
calming  herself,  she  pressed  her  hand  npon  her  throb- 
bing temples,  saying:  "I  will  wait,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing I  will  see  Aiinty,  and  if  she  refuses  I  will  go  to 
Uncle  Ned.  I  believe  I  can  get  him  interested,  and  as 
he  has  advised  my  getting  out  every  day,  that  will  be  an 
incentive  in  his  estimation  for  my  doing  so." 

The  silence  was  scarcely  broken  at  breakfast  the  next 
morning,  as  Mr.  Baldwin  and  Minnie  were  at  the  table 
alone,  and  both  seeming  busy  with  their  own  thoughts. 
As  Mr.  Baldwin  left  the  room  he  said: 

"You  will  get  out  to-day,  will  you  not?"  and  the 
solicitude  he  felt  was  manifested  in  his  A^oice. 

"  I  will  try,  uncle,"  was  her  low-spoken  rejoinder. 

Her  next  step  was  to  venture  to  her  Aunt's  room,  and 
she  had  braced  herself  up  preparatory  to  meeting  oppo- 
sition, she  well  knowing  that  ant  hills  and  coral  islands 
do  not  spring  up  as  if  by  magic,  but  are  built  slowly  grain 
by  grain.  So  she  thought  in  approaching  her  Aunt  she 
must  move  cautiously,  and  step  by  step  win  her  way 
through  the  tangled  masses  twining  about  that  strange, 
worldly  heart,  gaining  first  her  confidence  and  then  her 
consent.  The  peculiar  conduct  and  the  distance  to  which 
she  had  withdrawn  herself  from  Minnie  caused  her  to 
stand  somewhat  in  fear  of  her. 

Rapping  lightly  at  the  door,  her  Aunt  bidding  her,  she 
entered  to  find  the  same  chilling  atmosphere  pervading, 
but  with  her  native,  easy  air,  and  the  gentleness  of  man- 
ner characteristic  of  herself,  she  appeared  not  to  notice 
the  indifference  with  which  she  was  received,  but  seat- 


A  STORY  OF  RPJAL  LIFE. 


163 


ing  herself,  she  said,  rather  patronizingly:  Aunty,  1 
would  like  to  talk  with  you  a  few  moments  if  you  are 
well  enough,  and  feel  disposed  to  listen.  I  would  like 
your  advice  respecting  some  things  which  concern  me 
at  present." 

Whether  it  was  curiosity,  or  the  little  compliment 
paid  by  Minnie  in  asking  advice,  which  caused  the  sud- 
den change  from  indifference  to  amiability,  we  know  not. 
Some  hearts  are  so  susceptible  to  flattery,  that  the  only 
way  of  access  to  them  is  through  that  much  perverted 
channel.  However,  she  listened  with  evident  pleasure 
while  Minnie  told  her  of  her  frequent  visits  to  Jane  and 
the  child  whose  mother  had  died — of  her  own  inter- 
ests in  the  orphan,  and  also,  of  her  mother's  consent  that 
she  take  the  child,  should  she  and  Uncle  Ned  approve 
of  that  addition  to  the  family  until  her  parents  should 
come,  which  would  be  in  June. 

''What!"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  with  asperity, '' JTc?!^, 
Minnie  Merrill,  adopt  that  little  pauper — bring  that  lit- 
tle vagabond  and  ragamuftin  into  my  house?  No, 
7ieverr^  and  she  set  her  foot  down  with  such  force  as  to 
cause  Minnie  to  start. 

"  Excuse  me,  Aunt,"  she  said,  rising  to  leave  the  room, 
and  with  a  show  of  indignation  seldom  indulged  by  her, 
''  I  did  not  expect  to  cause  such  anger.  I  will  make 
other  arrangements  for  the  temporary  home  for  the 
child,"  and  with  the  sarcasm  she  felt,  continued :  Pau- 
per^ as  you  call  her,  she  shall  be  so  no  longer.  Poverty 
is  no  disgrace  to  that  little  orphan  child,  and  who  knows 
but  she,  like  hundreds  of  others,  has  been  made  so  by 
the  villiany  of  some  one  who  at  this  hour  is  reveling  in 


164  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

luxury  with  their  ill-gotten  gains,"  and  with  this  she 
left  the  presence  of  the  angry  woman. 

Was  it  weakness  in  her,  reader,  if  after  reaching  her 
own  room  she  gave  vent  to  her  pent-up  feelings  in  a 
fresh  burst  of  tears?  We  must  remember  her  debilita- 
ted condition,  consequent  upon  her  long  illness — her 
strangely  uncongenial  surroundings,  and  that  she  was 
wholly  unused  to  harshness,  and  while  you  and  I  may 
not  know  by  experience  what  it  is  to  feel  an  irresistible 
power  forcing  love  into  our  hearts,  and  then  with  its 
might  of  strength,  drawing  us  on  to  duty,  we  must  not — 
can  not — condemn  her.  And  casting  the  foolish  trick- 
eries  of  modern  Spiritualism  into  oblivion  where  they 
justly  belong  we  cannot  but  believe  that  to  some  hearts  the 
Great  Ruler  of  the  universe  reveals,  through  ministering 
spirits  (the  omnipresent  part  of  His  being),  more  of  His 
divine  will  concerning  His  earth-work  than  to  others. 
The  crystal  stream  reflects  our  image,  while  the  stag- 
nant and  sluggish  pool  reflects  nothing  from  its  impure 
depths,  is  it  thus  with  human  hearts  ?  Has  Omniscience 
some  special  agencies  through  which  His  earth-work  is 
accomplished?  We  must  forever  bow  before  the  mys- 
tery of  the  Eternal  God. 

Minnie  was  not  permitted  to  indulge  in  her  tears  but 
a  few  moments,  when  Janet,  softly  opening  her  door, 
handed  her  a  slip  of  paper,  upon  which  were  a  few  hastily 
written  lines  from  Mrs.  Baldwin,  asking  her  to  take  no 
steps  regarding  the  child  until  she  could  see  her  again. 
The  fact  was  that  when  her  suddenly  aroused  passion, 
caused  more  f:om  fear  of  an  exposure  than  ought  else, 
liad  subsided,  she  looked  at  the  matter  in  a  different 
light,  and  having  but  little  ingenuity  in  carrying  out 


'*No,  never!"  and  she  set  iiek  foot  down  with  such  force  as 
TO  CAUSE  Minnie  to  start.   See  page  163. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


165 


her  nefarious  plans,  she  forthwith  sent  for  McClellan, 
who  nothing  loth  to  do  her  ladyship's  bidding,  hastened 
to  her  room,  when  the  door  was  closed  and  they  were 
seated  so  close  that  not  a  word  of  the  whispered  con 
versation  could  be  heard  beyond  the  walls.  It  was  not 
long  before  the  whole  matter  was  satisfactorily  adjusted. 

"  Just  the  thing,"  said  McClellan,  as  he  rubbed  his 
hands  in  the  ecstasy  of  his  wicked  delight,  w^hile  his 
motley  gray  eyes  fairly  glittered  with  their  serpentine 
glare.  "  Once  get  her  into  the  house  and  there  will  be 
nothing  to  fear.  Things  are  working  like  a  charm,  and 
the  old  saying,  that  the  darkest  hour  of  the  night  is  just 
before  the  daylight,  seems  to  be  coming  true  for  us," 
and  seeing  that  Mrs.  Baldwin  was  not  very  demonstrative 
in  her  approbation  of  the  plan,  he  asked,  "  what  there 
was  to  which  she  objected? " 

"  Nothing,"  she  said,  "  except  I  do  not  know  how  we 
can  keep  Mr.  Baldwin  from  seeing  her." 

''Why?  Does  she  look  like  her  mother?"  said  Mc- 
Clellan." 

"  No.  She  looks  like  her  father's  family — or  at  least 
Jane  said  the  mother  told  her  she  was  the  exact  image 
of  her  father."  And  as  Mrs.  Baldwin  said  this  she  drew 
a  breath  of  relief. 

"Well  then/'  said  her  ingenious  counsellor,  "what  is 
there  to  fear?  You  say  he  never  saw  A^m  or  any  of  his 
family,  and  the  child  is  too  young  to  tell  anything  by 
which  he  could  get  a  clue  to  tell  w^ho  she  is." 

"  It  is  not  that  which  I  dread,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  "  it 
is  that  Mr.  Baldwin  gets  strange  impressions  about  some 
things,  and  if  he  should  get  the  least  bit  of  a  one  about 
this  child,  he  would  follow^  the  will-o'-the-wisp  to  the 


166  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

ends  of  the  eaath  until  he  ferreted  out  her  entire  history, 
rhen  where  would  I  be?  No,  she  must  not  come  to  the 
house." 

But  McClellan  with  his  ever-ready  wit,  cf  that  low 
order  of  wit,  came  to  her  rescue  by  suggestions  whereby 
she  could  be  kept  there  for  a  time  without  Mr.  Baldwin 
being  aware  of  her  existence,  and  approving  of  his  plan, 
she  dismissed  him,  as  the  time  for  Minnie's  visit  had 
arrived. 

Traces  of  tears  were  yet  visible  on  Minnie's  pale 
cheek  when  she  entered,  and  Mrs.  Baldwin's  heart  either 
softened  at  the  sight  of  her  pale  face  and  swollen  eye- 
lids, or  she  assumed  a  tender  manner  for  the  purpose  of 
carrying  out  her  schemes.  Meeting  her  at  the  door,  she 
threw  her  arms  about  her  neck,  and  imprinting  a  kiss 
upon  her  cheek  in  a  fondling  way,  said  : 

"  Poor,  dear  child!  I  am  so  sorry  if  I  hurt  you  this 
morning;  but  you  know  I  cannot  always  control  these 
poor,  weak  nerves  of  mine,  so  please  forgive  it,  won't 
you,  dear?"  and  she  led  her  to  a  sofa  and  seated  herself 
by  her  side — still  holding  the  cold,  limp  hand  of  her 
niece  within  her  own;  "besides,"  she  continued,  "I  am 
so  unused  to  mingling  with  or  having  anything  what- 
ever to  do  with  the  low  and  vulgar  class,  that  the  thought 
of  having  one  of  them  brought  into  my  house  as  one  of 
us^  w^as  such  a  shock  that  I  scarcely  realized  what  I  was 
saying;  but  in  thinking  it  over  when  alone  it  did  not 
seem  quite  so  bad;  she  has  rather  a  pretty  face,  and 
dress  will  improve  her  very  much,  and  perhaps  you  can 
make  her  appear  very  well — at  least  I  shall  not  object 
to  you  having  her  here  until  your  parents  come.  But 
there  is  one  request  that  I  shall  make  of  you,  and  that 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE. 


167 


is,  that  under  no  consideration  she  be  allowed  to  go 
about  the  house,  at  least  when  your  uncle  is  at  all  likely 
to  come  in.  You  may  think  this  strange,  as  you  are 
not  aware  of  his  utter  abhorrence  of  children;  he  would 
not  for  a  moment  listen  to  your  taking  this  child,  so  if 
you  think  you  can  keep  so  strict  a  guard  over  the  child 
and  your  own  lips  that  he  will  never  know  of  its  being 
in  the  house,  I  will  promise  you  my  assistance  in  cloth- 
ing and  caring  for  her." 

Minnie  sat  thoughtful  for  a  moment,  and  then  looking 
up,  she  said:  "Uncle  seems  to  love  every  one,  and  I 
do  not  see  how  he  can  so  dislike  little,  innocent  child- 
dren."  To  which  her  Aunt  replied  with  something  of 
the  old  asperity: 

"  Minnie  Merrill,  you  do  not  know  Ned  Baldwin  as  I 
do,  or  you  would  not  wonder  at  what  I  tell  you,  and  I 
warn  you  now  never  let  him  know  of  the  existence  of 
that  child  in  this  house,"  and  then  with  her  sweetness 
of  manner  all  restored,  she  said:  "Go  now,  dear,  and 
feel  that  T,  at  least,  shall  make  the  little  pet  welcome,  and 
no  doubt  shall  learn  to  love  her  very  dearly,"  and  with 
a  kiss,  she  dismissed  her. 

Minnie  was  not  so  innocent  ur  ignorant,  (whichever 
term  is  most  applicable)  as  to  wonder  if  it  were  not  pos- 
sible that  her  Aunt  was  more  nearly  allied  than  the  most 
of  her  sex  to  the  man  of  notoriety  in  the  centuries  past 
of  the  "  thirty  pieces  of  silver."  The  sudden  change — 
the  fitful  moods,  w^ere  a  problem  to  her  which  she  was 
unable  to  solve;  she  could  see  no  object  in  her  practic- 
ing deception,  and  concluded  that  she  must  have  truly 
repented  her  rashness  and  was  desirous  of  making 


168  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

amends,  and  if  so,  she  would  accept  with  gratitude  her 
proffered  help. 

An  hour  later  found  Minnie  alighting  from  her  Aunt's 
carriage  in  front  of  Doctor  Bien's  residence.  Dismiss- 
ing John,  she  told  him  that  she  would  prefer  walking 
home.  She  did  not  observe,  until  she  had  ascended  the 
steps,  that  the  signal  of  death  was  upon  the  door,  and 
while  she  was  hesitating  about  ringing,  the  door  was 
noiselessly  opened  by  Jane,  who,  from  an  upper  window 
had  seen  her  alight  from  the  carriage,  and  had  hastened 
to  meet  her. 

''Come  in,"  she  said;  ''but  how  singular;  you  really 
seem  fated  to  look  upon  the  face  of  my  friends  for  the 
first  time  when  they  are  cold  and  still.  It  was  so  once 
before,  you  remember." 

"Then  Mrs.  Bien  is  gone,  too,  is  she?"  said  Minnie. 
"  It  really  seems  as  if  you  are  the  fated  one.  You  learn 
to  love  so  dearly,  and  then  must  lose  so  soon.  I  will 
not  intrude,  but  will  come  again,"  saying  which,  she 
turned  toward  the  door. 

"  No,"  said  Jane,  in  a  subdued  tone,  laying  her  hand 
upon  her  arm,  "  do  not  go,  for  to-morrow  they  lay  her 
away,  and  then  I  must  seek  a  new  home,  and  God  alone 
knows  where  it  will  be,  and  I  may  never  see  you  again, 
and  I  have  that  to  say  to  you  which  must  be  said,  so 
come  right  upstairs  where,  uninterrupted,  I  can  tell  you 
all.  The  Doctor  and  his  cousin,  Mrs."'Elgier,  will  be 
here  to  see  to  things."  So  saying,  she  led  the  way  to  a 
neatly  furnished  little  room  on  the  second  floor,  where 
they  found  Nellie  fast  asleep  upon  the  sofa — her  little 
round  cheek  offered  too  mucli  of  a  temptation  for  Minnie 
to  resist  kissing,  and  before  taking  the  proffered  seat, 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


169 


she  kissed  her  tenderly,  which  partially  aroused  her,  and 
her  little  dimpled  hand  found  its  way  for  a  moment  to 
Minnie's  face,  and  with  a  tender  caressing  movement, 
glided  over  her  soft  cheeks,  and  then  fell  back  upon  the 
pillow,  and  she  was  lost  in  sleep  so  deep  that  her  little 
ears  did  not  hear  when  Jane  told  Minnie  that  her  dying 
mother  had  hoped  that  she  would  take  the  child  and 
love  it  as  a  sister.  And  in  answer  to  Minnie's  query  as 
to  why  she  should  wish  her,  a  stranger,  to  have  the 
training  of  that  little  immortal  soul,  she  replied,  with 
tears:  ''She  knew  the  child  loved  you,  and  believed 
that  a  true  legitimate  love  would  beget  love,  and  that 
you  would  love  her  in  return,  and  in  so  doing,  would  not 
fail  in  duty." 

Jane  had  no  need  to  tell  all  of  the  strange  story  of  the 
dying  woman,  a  portion  of  which  was  to  be  kept  secret, 
at  least  until  Nellie  was  old  enough  to  comprehend  it, 
unless  Minnie  should  hesitate  in  taking  the  great  respon- 
sibility upon  herself,  then  she  should  tell  her  all,  and 
that  she  knew  would  conquer  every  objection. 

Minnie  expressed  herself  delighted  with  the  thought 
of  taking  the  child  with  all  the  mystery  surrounding  it, 
and  it  was  soon  settled  that  she  should  take  it  the  day 
after  the  funeral,  as  on  that  day  Jane  said  that  she  her- 
self should  go  out  to  seek  a  home  elsewhere,  as  the  Doc- 
tor's cousin,  Mrs.  Elgier,  with  her  husband  and  daughter, 
from  the  Sandwich  Islands,  would  spend  some  time  with 
him ;  and,  at  any  rate,"  she  continued,  I  could  be  of 
no  farther  use  here  now,"  and  as  she  took  Minnie's  hand 
as  she  was  about  to  leave,  she  said:  No  one  can  ever 
know  the  good  those  two  dear  women  have  done  for  me-^ 
and  I  sometimes  think  if  they  did  no  other  of  Christ's 


170 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


work  in  this  life  save  what  they  have  done  for  me,  their 
reward  should  be  great  when  they  awake  on  the  other 
shore.'^ 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


PLOTTINGS. 

Minnie  and  Mrs.  Baldwin  were  v^ery  busy  during  the 
first  few  weeks  after  tlie  arrival  of  little  Nellie.  Minnie 
continued  to  occupy  the  room  on  the  third  floor,  and 
hither  Mrs.  Baldwin  wended  her  way  every  morning, 
and  she  manifested  an  almost  incredible  interest  in  the 
work.  Dainty  little  aprons  with  real  lace  from  among 
her  choicest,  and  ribbons  to  harmonize  with  the  flaxen 
curls,  were  brought  forth  in  profusion;  drawers  and 
boxes  were  subjected  to  such  a  general  overhauling  as 
they  had  not  known  for  years,  and  if  Mrs.  Baldwin's 
heart  was  not  going  through  the  same  process,  indica- 
tions  were  dreadfully  deceptive.  No  fond  mother  could 
work  with  more  zeal  or  manifest  greater  delight  as  each 
little  garment  was  finished  and  tried  on.  The  rose* 
were  coming  hesitatingly  back  to  her  cheeks — the  luster 
to  her  eyes,  and  her  whole  manner  was  so  thoroughly 
changed  that  Minnie  began  to  fear  lest  she  would  become 
so  infatuated  wdth  the  child  as  to  wish  to  keep  her,  while 
Nellie  in  turn  seemed  to  grow  daily  more  fond  of  her. 
Toys  and  sw^eetmeats  were  lavished  upon  her,  while 
even  the  busy  McClellan  found  time  to  make  frequent 
calls  at  the  sewing-room  on  some  trivial  errand — con- 
stituting himself  a  regular  walking  candy-shop,"  to  the 
great  delight  of  the  child  and  to  Minnie's  fears  for  her 
health.    On  one  occasion  while  trying  to  win  her  atteu- 

171 


172  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

tion,  he  looked  up  at  Mrs.  Baldwin  through  tears,  aud 
said: 

"This  dear  little  girl  is  so  like  my  own  who  died 
years  ago,  and  whose  image  has  filled  my  heart  with 
sweet  memories  every  day  since  that  time,  and  it  really 
seems  as  if  it  were  she  come  back  from  the  dead — to 
"Minnie — Alas!  but  not  to  me,"  and  he  sighed  as  he 
tried  to  imprint  a  kiss  upon  the  dimpled  cheek,  but  the 
child  recoiled  from  his  touch,  for  which  Mrs.  Baldwin 
chided  her,  saying: 

"  That  good  Uncle  loves  you,  and  will  get  you  a  great 
many  nice  things,  and  take  you  to  ride  on  pleasant  days, 
and  you  must  be  very  kind  to  him." 

After  the  little  wardrobe  was  completed  and  Nellie 
dressed  in  a  dainty  little  suit,  Mrs.  Baldwin  was  in 
ecstacies  over  her,  and  turm'ng  to  Minnie,  she  said: 

"  I  would  give  the  world  to  have  your  Uncle  see  this 
little  fairy,  but  I  know  him  too  well  for  that.  His  anger 
would  know  no  bounds  should  he  know  that  a  child  was 
in  the  house,  and  you  must  continue  your  watchfulness 
and  bring  her  meals  to  the  room,  and  to  the  servants 
you  can  say  that  she  is  the  child  of  a  friend  who  will 
spend  the  day  with  you  frequently.  They  will  not  recog- 
nize her  in  her  new  clothes,  for  I  should  nev^er  believe 
it  the  same  child,  she  is  so  changed.  But  I  must  go  to 
my  own  room,  and  hope  you  will  have  her  come  often  to 
see  me,  for  I  have  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  the  little  dar- 
ling, and  do  not  wonder  at  your  infatuation,  but  we  iiiust 
be  careful  not  to  let  that  child-hater  Uncle  of  yours  get 
a  glimpse  of  her,  or  the  castle  will  be  stormed,"  and 
with  a  simpering  laugh  she  closed  the  door  and 
descended  the  stairs  with  more  alacrity  than  was  usual  for 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


173 


her.  In  the  hall  below  she  was  met  by  McClellan,  who 
was  evidently  in  waiting  for  her.  They  entered  her 
room,  and  he,  rubbing  his  hands  gleefully,  said: 

"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  working  half  so  nice  as 
this?" 

"Never,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin.  "And  the  poor  silly 
girl  thinks  we  love  that  little  tow-headed  young  one 
as  well  as  she  does.  They  are  as  fond  of  each  other  as 
two  kittens;  but  a  few  weeks  at  the  farthest, and  we  will 
spoil  their  fun,  won't  we? " 

"  I  think,"  said  McClellan,  stepping  a  little  nearer  to 
her,  "  that  you  are  the  most  perfect  actor  I  ever  knew, 
for  I  really  began  to  think  you  were  learning  to  love 
the  child  in  dead  earnest,  and  that  my  game  was 
spoiled." 

"  Love  her!  "  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  with  scorn,  "  I  hate 
the  sight  of  her,  and  if  we  cannot  get  rid  of  her  in  any 
other  way,  I  would  not  hesitate  to — give  her  a — dose 
myself."  And  then  lowering  her  voice  to  a  husky  whis- 
per, fairly  hissed  through  her  teeth,  "  I  only  wish  she 
was  dead  and  buried  twenty  feet  beneath  the  earth,  then 
I  could  get  some  rest — have  some  peace^  Then  after 
a  pause,  she  said  in  a  whimpering  voice:  "Oh,  Mack, 
you  are  the  only  friend  I  have  on  earth,  and  I  know  you 
will  not  desert  me  until  this  miserable  work  is.  accom- 
plished," at  which  he  put  bis  arm  about  her  waist  and 
gently  drew  her  near  him,  imprinting  a  kiss  upon  her 
cheek.  He  did  not  see  the  fire  of  indignation  that 
flashed  from  her  black  eyes  at  the  liberty  he  had  taken, 
for  just  at  that  moment  a  ring  at  the  door  bell  caused 
his  hasty  exit  from  the  room.  As  the  door  closed  after 
him,  Mrs.  Baldwin  fairly  paced  the  room  in  her  rage, 


174  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

and  with  clenched  fists  and  grating  teeth,  she  heaped 
upon  him  all  the  vile  epithets  known  to  the  Engheh 
language. 

The  condescension  was  more  than  her  proud  nature 
could  bear;  she  was  angry  with  herself  for  allowing  it  to 
pass  unresented,  but  said  she:  "I  must  endure  it  if 
possible  until  I  am  through  with  him,  and  when  that  is 
over  with  I  will— well,  the  poor  silly  dolt  does  not 
dream  of  the  fate  I  have  in  store  for  him.  He  will  go  to 
sleep  sometime  without  knowing  that  he  never  will 
wake  up  again — dead  men  never  tell  tales,  and  I  wouldn't 
trust  Mm  a  single  day  if  he  should  in  the  least  get  put 
out  about  tlie  farm,  which  he  thinks  will  be  his  reward 
for  this  work,  but  which  he  never  shall  be  the  owner  of. 
Ha,  ha!"  And  with  a  hysterical  laugh,  she  applied  a 
cosmetic  to  her  face  and  repaired  to  the  dinner  table. 
Perhaps  she  would  not  have  felt  quite  so  collected  could 
she  have  seen  McClellan  as  he  stood  in  the  vestibule 
leading  to  the  wine  cellar,  and  soliliquized: 

By  Jove!  How  did  I  dare  to  do  that,  and  yet  she 
did  not  resent  it.  Wall,  she  has  encouraged  it  in  every 
way,  and  I  really  believe  she  kinder  likes  me  pretty  well 
after  all,  and  I've  got  her  just  where  she  can't  very  well 
cast  me  off,  and  so  I'll  hang  on  to  that  hook  until  the 
old  man  pegs  off,  if  it  isn't  too  long;  and  then  just 
think  of  Jim  McClellan  being  master  of  this  mansion,'^ 
and  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  as  the  pros- 
pect loomed  up  before  his  egotistical  vision.  "  Once  win 
this  woman's  heart,  as  she  has  now  mine — for  by  her 
dazzling  charms  she  has  absorbed  every  fiber  of  my  soul — 
and  she  will  leave  no  stone  unturned  until  she  has  made 
the  coast  clear  for  me.    Broadcloth  and  a  gold-headed 


A  STOKY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


175 


cane  will  make  Jim  McClellan  quite  respectable,  as  the 
world  goes."  And  with  this  he  went  on  to  the  wme 
cellar  and  helped  himself  to  his  satisfaction. 

The  days  grew  into  weeks  without  any  particular 
change  except  the  maturing  of  plans;  McClellan  plan- 
ning and  gaining  a  little,  as  he  thought,  each  day;  Mrs. 
Baldwin  busy  with  planning  how  to  dispose  of  the  man 
when  through  with  him;  Minnie  planning,  and  very 
nicely,  too,  for  one  of  her  years,  how  she  should  train 
and  educate  the  little  one  so  that  she  might  be  useful 
to  the  world  in  future  years,  meantime  writing  letters 
to  her  mother,  filling  each  one  with  the  cunning  little 
sayings  of  Nellie,  and  asking  advice  in  many  things. 
She  told  her  how  completely  the  child  had  won  the  heart 
of  her  Aunt,  and  what  a  blessing  she  was  proving  to  her 
by  taking  her  mind  from  her  own  ''poor  weak  nerves;'' 
but  carefully  avoiding  to  make  mention  that  her  Uncle 
was  not  aware  of  her  being  there,  thinking  it  best  to 
leave  that  until  they  came,  and  if  any  one  could  over- 
come his  prejudices  it  would  be  her  mother.    And  thus 
the  time  sped  swiftly  by,  bringing  the  bright  warm  days 
of  spring  with  their  green  leaves  and  budding  flowers, 
although  they  seldom  went  out  to  enjoy  them,  their 
walks  being  chiefly  confined  to  an  occasional  visit  tc 
Mrs.  Baldwin's  room,  or  a  look  into  the  parlor,  besides 
spending  a  portion  of  each  day  in  the  library,  Minnie 
being  assiduous  in  her  devotions  to  keeping  that  room 
cheerful,  and  almost  daily  fresh  flowers  from  the  con- 
servatory were  set  on  Uncle  Ned's  table,  for  it  was  there 
he  spent  his  evenings.    One  evening  as  she  looked  in 
upon  him  while  he  sat  reading  he  looked  up  at  her  with 
his  great  sun-lit  eyes,  and  bidding  her  come  in,  he  said: 


176  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  I  feel  greatly  indebted  to  some  kind  hand  for  the 
neat  arrangement  of  my  books  and  papers,  and  also  those 
fresh  flowers;  but  do  you  know,  my  little  chick,''  said 
lie,  rising,  and  placing  an  easy-chair  for  her  near  to  his 
own,  "perhaps  you  are  not  aware  that  your  bright 
young  face  would  enliven  up  this  room  infinitely  more 
than  all  the  flowers  that  could  be  stored  into  it.  Why 
is  it  that  I  see  so  little  of  you  of  late;  is  it  that  your 
Aunt  and  you  have  grown  so  fond  of  each  other  that 
there  is  no  attraction  for  you  out  of  her  presence  ? "  and 
without  w^aiting  for  an  answer,  continued,  "  I  suppose  I 
ought  to  be  glad  if  it  is  so,  and  will  try  to  be  reconciled 
to  be  alone.  By  the  way,  Minnie,  I  think  you  are  work 
ing  wonders  in  this  house,  it  has  not  been  so  quiet  and 
home-like  for  years.  Your  Aunt  seems  cheerful  and  in 
better  health,  and  seems  to  be  content  to  be  quiet  at 
home.  She  was  always  restless  unless  attending  or  giv- 
ing parties,  and  there  was  a  constant  turmoi^  of  coming 
and  going,  year  in  and  year  out,  until  I  was  sometimes 
heartily  weary  of  home.  Perhaps  I  may  be  a  little  old- 
fashioned  and  even  singular  in  some  respects,  but  after 
my  hard  day's  mental  labor  I  should  enjoy  a  quiet  time 
in  this  room  w^itli  my  wife  and  yourself,  and  w^ould  not 
object  to  a  little  romping  fun  with  two  or  three  little 
ones,  if  we  had  any  in  the  neighborhood  who  felt  free  to 
drop  in  for  an  evening  occasionally.  Oh,  by  tlie  way,'^ 
he  continued,  rising  and  going  to  w^iere  he  had  hung 
his  coat  before  exchanging  it  for  his  dressing-gown,  "  1 
have  something  to  show  you."  Minnie  scarcely  heard 
wluit  he  was  saying,  his  words  regarding  children  were 
so  contradictory  to  what  her  Aunt  had  told  her  that  she 
did  not  know  what  to  think  of  it.   After  some  searching 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE. 


177 


through  the  letters  and  papers  in  his  pockets,  he  seemed 
to  have  found  wliat  he  was  after,  and  upon  returning  to 
his  seat  cauglit  tlie  troubled  expression  on  Minnie's  face, 
and  in  a  cheerful  way,  said:  ''A  penny  for  your 
thoughts,  little  chick,"  at  which  she  smiled. 

"  O,  Uncle,  I  had  not  a  penny's  worth  of  thoughts; 
but  what  were  you  going  to  say  to  me  as  you  went  across 
the  room  ?  " 

'-Well,  I  was  just  going  to  say  that  perhaps  you  were 
not  aware  tliat  your  Aunt's  birthday  occurs  in  about  two 
weeks,  and  I  am  planning  a  little  surprise  for  her  in  the 
form  of  an  oil  painting  of  myself — and  also  one  for  your 
mother  when  she  comes,  as  she  has  been  w^riting  for  the 
past  two  years  for  me  to  send  her  my  picture — and  I 
dropped  into  Brady's  rooms  to-day  to  see  how  the  work 
was  progressing,  and  found  Mr.  Brady  and  tlie  man  who 
finishes  ambrotypes  was  in  ecstacies  over  a  picture  he 
had  just  finished  of  a  child,  and  as  Brady  and  I  are  on 
quite  friendly  terms,  he  called  my  attention  to  the  pic- 
ture. It  really  w^as  a  beautiful  face — there  was  in  the 
expression  of  those  little  eyes  an  irriftistible  charm.  I 
cannot  tell  you  how  it  affected  me  so  that  you  can  com- 
prehend it.  1  was  like  a  thirsty  man  looking  into  a 
glass  of  clear,  cold  water — a  mere  look  did  not  satisfy. 
I  wanted  to  take  it  to  myself,  as  a  part  of  myself,  and  I 
begged  of  Mr.  Brady  to  sell  it  to  me,  but  he  refused, 
saying  he  could  not  part  with  that,  but  had  several 
smaller  ones,  one  of  which  he  would  give  me."  And 
handing  the  picture  to  Minnie,  he  continued,  taking  no 
heed  of  the  palor  wliicli  overspread  her  face  as  she 
looked  upon  the  picture  of  the  child  Nellie.  ''I  am 
naturally  very  fond  of  children;  there  are  two  littie 

12 


178 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


ones,  whose  father's  business  place  is  in  the  same  block 
with  my  own,  and  they  frequently  come  into  my  office, 
and  when  I  am  weary  it  seems  real  restful  to  have  a 
play  with  them."  Minnie's  smile,  as  she  handed  him 
back  the  picture  was  one  of  embarrassment,  and  the 
nervous  twitching  about  her  mouth  was  only  relieved 
by  her  saying:  % 

"  It  is  a  very  pretty  little  face." 

"  I  cannot  say,"  said  Mr.  Baldwin,  looking  intently 
upon  the  picture,  "  that  it  is  the  beauty  that  attracts  me 
80  much  as  an  undefined  something  in  the  expression  or 
features,  one  or  both,  which  seems  to  ta'ke  hold  of  me 
with  a  love  as  if  she  were  my  own,  and  I  expressed  a 
desire  to  see  the  original,  and  Mr.  Brady  thinks  he  can 
secure  the  opportunity  for  me;  he  said  it  was  a  young 
lady  aunt  or  cousin  of  the  child's  that  brought  her 
there,  its  mother  being  dead,  and  that  when  she  came 
for  the  picture  he  would  ask  her  to  bring  the  child  in 
again  for  an  extra  sitting,  and  would  let  me  know  in 
time,  so  that  I  could  be  there.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go 
with  me?  and  then  you  can  see  that  my  pictures  are  all 
right."  Whereupon,  Minnie  feeling  a  little  uneasiness 
about  the  child,  rose  to  leave,  saying: 

Thank  you.  Uncle.  When  you  get  it  all  arranged, 
please  let  me  know,  and  I  shall  be  happy  to  accompany 
you." 

As  she  closed  the  door,  Mr.  Baldwin  said,  half  aloud: 
'^What  does  ail  that  girl?  I  never  saw  her  quite  so 
calm  and  dignified.  There  is  not  one  bit  of  her  former 
sprightliness  iff  her.  I  do  wonder  if  she  is  homesick. 
Gome  to  think,  she  grew  as  white  as  a  sheet  before  she 
left,    I  must  see  that  she  gets  out  more ;  it  will  never 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


179 


do  to  let  her  droop  in  this  way.  I  must  speak  to  Mrs. 
Baldwin  and  have  her  take  her  out  often,"  and  taking 
up  his  paper,  lie  resumed  his  reading,  apparently  forget- 
ting alike  Minnie  and  the  blue  eyes  in  the  picture. 

Mrs.  Baldwin  had  noticed  when  making  her  last 
•ound  of  fashionable  calls  that  she  was  received  with  a 
coolness  which  she  was  at  a  loss  to  understand,  and  as 
they  had  not  been  returned,  she  was  feeling  some  unea- 
siness. As  the  indications  were  that  warm  weather 
would  set  in  quite  early,  and  she  wished  to  make 
arrangements  for  the  summer's  trip,  and  in  speaking  to 
her  physician, Dr.  Hamilton,  at  one  time,  she  said:  "I 
do  not  see  how  I  am  going  to  get  rid  of  going  with  the 
Merrills,  as  they  expect  to  go  to  some  resort  for  the  sum- 
mer, but  had  not  decided  when  Minnie  had  her  last  let- 
ter where  they  would  go,  and  of  course  Mr.  Baldwin  will 
wish  to  go  with  his  sister,  but  I  dread  it;  they  are  what 
you  call  '  highly  cultivated  people.'  " 

''Bah!"  said  the  doctor,  "I  would  not  give  a  snap 
for  the  company  of  such  people.  Can't  we  manage,  a 
few  of  us,  to  play  them  the  slip  in  some  way  or  other?" 

I  like  your  suggestion,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  ''  and  I 
should  not  wonder  if  we  could,  for  very  likely  they  would 
want  to  go  to  some  tame  place  where  there  is  nothing 
that  we  would  enjoy,  and  I  have  been  at  too  much 
expense  in  getting  up  my  wardrobe  not  to  have  a  gay 
time,  and  as  they  are  rather  old-fashioned  and  plain  in 
their  dress,  and  as  Minnie  has  been  to.no  expense  for  an 
outfit,  they  will  not  harmonize  with  our  set,  and  besides 
that,"  she  added,  with  one  of  her  knowing  smiles, 
shouldn't  wonder  if  they  were  all  ready  to  go  in  mourn' 


180  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


ing  by  that  time  over  what  will  happen  that  idol  of 
theirs." 

''Oh,  by  the  way,"  said  the  doctor,  ''how  are  you 
making  it  about  that  matter?" 

"It  is  working  like  a  charm,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin, 
"  and  in  a  very  short  time  you  may  expect  a  perfect  furore 
to  be  raised  all  over  the  city.  Mack  has  got  his  plans 
all  laid,  and  is  only  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  carry 
them  out,  which  must  be  done  before  the  Merrills  get 
here,  and  then  I  must  see  that  the  man's  mouth  is  shut 
*as  soon  as  possible  afterward.'' 

At  this  moment  the  doctor  remembered  an  engage- 
ment, and  said:  "I  will  see  you  again,  and  we  can 
then  complete  this  arrangement." 

As  Mrs.  Baldwin  closed  the  door  after  him  she  began 
selecting  some  of  her  choicest  laces,  laying  them  aside 
preparatory  to  the  anticipated  trip,  and  smiled  as  she 
thought  of  the  doctor's  opportune  suggestion,  and  then 
of  her  own  words  regarding  her  friends  being  ready  to 
go  into  mourning  by  that  time,  little  dreaming  that  her 
words  would  prove  prophetic. 

Minnie  spent  the  days  following  this  in  amusing  and 
instructing  her  little  charge,  and  trying  to  solve  the 
strange  problem  of  Uncle  Ned's  professed  love  of  chil- 
dren, while  her  Aunt  had  declared  that  he  hated  them. 
She  was  completely  mystified  in  regard  to  it,  and  decided 
to  adhere  strictly  to  her  Aunt's  request,  and  keep  Nel- 
lie's presence  a  secret  from  him,  although  she  sometimes 
thought  felie  would  like  to  surprise  and  test  him  by  ush- 
ering the  little  fairy  into  his  presence  some  evening, 
wondering  if  he  would  recognize  in  her  the  original  of 
his  highly-prized  picture;  but  she  put  aside  the  temp- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


181 


tation  as  one  too  great  to  risk,  and  concluded  to  quietly 
await  developments,  which  she  felt  sure  would  come 
some  time,  and  that  she  should  know  on  whose  side  the 
truth  belonged.  And  she  thought,  too,  of  the  singularity 
of  the  child's  picture  awakening  love  and  finding  so 
choice  a  niche  in  her  Uncle's  heart  similar  to  her  own 
experience,  winning  the  love  of  her  proud,  indifferent 
Aunt  and  the  rough,  unpolished  McClellan,  and  she 
fairly  trembled  for  her  future,  if  all  tlirough  life  she  was 
destined  to  be  the  conqueror  of  hearts.  "  It  is  well," 
she  said,  to  be  fondly  and  truly  loved  by  a  few,  and 
admired  by  many,  but  not  so  well  to  be  the  adored  of 
all  hearts." 

When  she  went  for  the  picture  the  artist  urged  her 
to  bring  the  child  for  an  extra  sitting,  which  she  politely 
declined,  saying  that  "  it  might  not  be  convenient  for 
her  to  come  at  the  time  he  wished,  and  she  would  prefer 
not  making  the  engagement."  Mr.  Brady  having  no 
other  reason  for  making  the  request  except  to  gratify 
Mr.  Baldwin,  did  not  urge  the  matter,  which  was  a  great 
relief  to  Minnie. 

Dr.  Bien  had  secured  for  Jane  what  seemed  might 
prove  a  permanent  home  with  one  of  his  patients,  a 
wealthy  invalid  widow  lady  in  Brooklyn.  She  had  not  had 
the  opportunity  of  calling  to  see  Nellie  but  once  since 
Minnie  had  taken  her,  and  then  her  style  of  dress  and 
general  bearing  was  so  changed  that  Mrs.  Baldwin  did 
not  recognize  in  her  the  Jane  who  had  assisted  in  the 
preparations  for  her  daughter's  wedding  until  Minnie 
introduced  her,  when  her  lofty  bearing  had  an  effect  so 
chilling  that  Jane,  feeling  ill  at  ease,  soon  arose  to  go, 
saying:      I  wish  to  see  Janet  for  a  moment,  will  I  find 


182  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

her  below?"  whereupon  Mrs.  Baldwin  started  up,  saying: 
"Janet  is  no  longer  in  my  employ.    She  has  been 
growing  so  impudent  of  late  that  1  was  obliged  to  dis- 
charge her,  and  she  left  this  morning." 

The  door  had  scarcely  closed  after  Jane  when  Janet 
entered  to  inquire  of  Mrs.  Baldwin  if  she  had  any  special 
orders  for  dinner,  as  a  note  from  Mr.  Baldwin  informed 
her  that  he  would  have  a  friend  with  him.  After  receiv- 
ing the  order  she  left  the  room,  and  Minnie  in  surprise, 
said: 

"Why,  Aunty !  I  thought  you  had  discharged  Janet," 
at  which  the  lady,  highly  indignant,  made  her  excuse 
for  the  false  statement  by  saying  she  was  afraid  Jane 
might  give  Janet  more  information  respecting  the  child's 
history  than  would  be  conducive  to  its  secrecy  from  Mr. 
Baldwin,  adding:  "  I  have  no  confidence  in  that  class  of 
persons,  and  think  it  the  height  of  presumption  in  the 
girl  to  seek  admittance  to  our  society;  she  is  a  regular 
upstart,  and  that  old  Doctor  knows  what  he  is  doing 
when  he  has  her  supported  by  his  patients;  but  I  think 
she  will  not  be  likely  to  trouble  us  farther,"  saying 
which,  she  sailed  out  of  the  room  to  prepare  for  the 
expected  company. 

Minnie  sat  for  some  moments  buried  so  deep  in 
thought  as  not  to  hear  Mr.  Baldwin  and  his  friend  as 
they  entered  the  library,  she  was  trying  to  discern  the 
difference  between  falsehood  clothed  in  purple  and  fine 
linen  and  that,  with  less  than  the  fig  leaf,  and  plucking  a 
rose-bud  from  the  vase  on  the  table  near  her  as  she  was 
about  to  leave  the  room,  she  exclaimed  half  aloud: 
"What  kind  of  person  is  she?  Is  she  a  woman  or  a — 
"An  angel,"  said  a  voice  close  behind  her,  at  the  same 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


183 


moment  Uncle  Ned's  arms  were  thrown  about  her  neck 
and  a  warm  kiss  left  upon  her  brow  as  he  said: 

I  do  not  know  my  little  chick  whose  identity  you 
are  trying  to  solve;  but  come  with  me  and  we  will  set- 
tle that  question  at  some  other  time.  I  want  to  present 
you  to  my  young  friend  from  San  Francisco,  Mr.  Bradley, 
a  rising  young  lawyer,  the  son  of  an  old  friend  of  mine." 
And  the  two  whose  lives  ever  after  blended,  looked  for 
the  first  time  into  the  face  which  was  destined  to 
encounter  the  same  rough  or  pleasant  breeze  as  the  other, 
and  be  tossed  about  by  the  same  waves  of  life's  sea. 


CHAPTEK  XIV- 


KIDNAPED. 

One  bright  morning  in  the  second  week  of  June, 
Minnie  came  into  her  Aunt's  room  radiant  with  joy. 
Mrs.  Baldwin  turning  from  her  mirror,  was  caught  for 
a  moment  in  the  magnetic  current,  and  smiling  blandly, 
she  said:  "What  is  it,  my  child,  that  makes  you  so 
happy  this  morning? " 

Minnie,  holding  up  a  letter,  said:  "  Papa  and  Mam- 
ma  will  be  here  the  twentieth  of  June,  but  it  will 
be  ten  long  days  yet  before  that."  At  this,  observing  the 
flushed  and  confused  expression  which  passed  over  her 
Aunt's  face,  and  interpreting  it^s  the  sorrow  she  felt  at 
the  near  approach  of  the  time  when  she  and  the  child 
should  leave  her  home,  as  she  had  made  frequent  allu- 
sions to  that  feeling  as  being  paramount  to  all  others, 
she  hastily  threw  her  arms  about  her  Aunt's  neck,  and 
kissing  her  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  been  her 
guest,  said:  "  I  know,  Aunty,  you  are  thinking  you  shall 
soon  have  to  give  us  up;  but  never  mind,  some  one  else 
will  come  who  will  more  than  fill  our  place  in  your  affec- 
tions," and  with  these  soothing  words  she  seated  herself, 
and  was  about  to  read  the  letter  aloud,  when  Mrs.  Bald- 
win interrupted  her,  saying: 

"  You  are  right,  Minnie.  Much  as  1  wish  to  see  your 
dear  parents,  I  know  their  coming  will  rob  me  of  the 
two  brightest  stars  in  my  night  of  sorrow.  But  go, 
child,  I  cannot  hear  your  letter  now;  when  my  nerves 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


185 


tire  more  composed  I  will  listen.  It  is  so  hard  for  me 
to  be  reconciled  to  giving  you  up.  You  have  so  com- 
pletely filled  Nellie's  place  in  our  home,  and  in  a  mea- 
sure reconciled  our  hearts  to  the  separation  from  h«r; 
but  let  me  rest  now,  and  to-morrow  I  will  see  you  and 
arrange  for  their  reception." 

Minnie  poured  her  delight  in  an  almost  childish  way 
into  Nellie's  ear,  telling  of  her  parents'  coming — of  the 
pleasant  little  trip  to  some  place  of  resort,  and  that  in 
September  they  should  go  to  their  own  pleasant  home 
at  Mount  Auburn,  and  turning  away  to  arrange  the 
drapery  at  her  window,  she  said  half  aloud :  "  Then  we 
shall  be  free  from  these  fetters  of  fear." 

How  little  did  she  realize  that  other  fetters  were  twin- 
ing around  her  heart;  but  the  tightening  cords  were  of 
so  blissful  a  nature  that  they  were  worn  with  ease.  Nor 
did  she  realize  all  the  fullness  of  their  power,  when  a 
few  days  later  Mr.  Bradley  asked  at  parting  with  her, 
after  his  few  days'  stay,  the  continuance  of  their  acquaint- 
ance through  correspondence,  to  which  she  modestly 
consented. 

Mrs.  Baldwin  waited  only  until  Minnie's  merry  car- 
rolings  died  away  in  the  distance  of  her  own  room,  before 
giving  the  bell  a  vigorous  pull,  followed  by  two  more 
quick  rings,  which  was  known  by  the  servants  as  a  call 
to  McClellan,  each  one  in  turn  glanced  at  the  man  who 
was  leisurely  devouring  a  dish  of  strawberries  and  cream. 

"Why  don't  you  start? "  said  Janet.  "  You  know  that 
ring  means  haste." 

"I  suppose,"  said  he,  rising  up,  "you  would  like  a 
fellow  to  leave  this  nice  dish  and  cake  for  you  to  gobble 
up,  wouldn't  you?"    So  saying,  be  turned  the  contents 


186  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

into  his  spacious  mouth,  and  taking  up  his  nicely-frosted 
piece  of  cake,  made  his  way  to  the  back  stairs,  choking 
down  the  last  mouthful  as  he  went  into  the  presence  of 
Mrs.  Baldwin,  who  he  found,  as  was  her  habit  when 
anything  troubled  her,  walking  the  floor. 

"What's  up  now?"  he  said,  drawing  down  his  shaggy 
brows.  He  had  become  so  accustomed  to  seeing  her  in 
her  "nervous  tantrums,"  as  he  called  them,  that  they 
were  no  longer  a  cause  of  alarm. 

"Oh,  Mack!"  she  said,  coming  toward  him,  wring- 
ing her  hands,  "  they  are  coming  in  just  ten  days,  and 
you  must  not  lose  one  moment's  time  in  getting  that 
child  away;  and  they  may  come  within  that  time,  as 
some  persons  always  set  the  time  a  little  ahead  so  as  to 
relieve  suspense."  While  saying  this  the  man  stood 
with  apparent  indifference,  but  when  she  concluded  he 
said: 

"Wall,  what  if  they  do  come,  it  ain't  going  to  take 
ten  days  or  even  ten  hours  to  do  all  I  have  to  do,  so 
there  is  no  use  in  gettin'  in  a  flurry  about  nothin'.  You 
just  keep  cool  and  do  your  part  all  right,  and  I'll  put  the 
rest  through  in  double-quick  time." 

"O,  but  you  see,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  somewhat 
calmed,  "  you  know  there  will  be  a  perfect  storm  when 
the  child  is  missing,  and  there  is  no  telling  how  hard  it 
will  be,  or  how  long  it  may  last,  or  just  what  measures 
she  will  take  to  flnd  her;  for  I  tell  you,  Mack,  that  girl 
just  worships  the  little  imp,  and  one  thing  in  our  favor 
is  that  she  thinks  we  are  as  silly  as  herself  about  her." 

'Wall,  now,  look  you  here,  Madam,"  assuming  a  dig- 
nifled  business  air,  "  we  must  not  go  at  this  business  in 
a  hap-hazard  way,  but  in  a  systematically  sort  of  style. 


A  STORT  Ok  REAL  LIFE. 


187 


You  say  Mr.  Baldwin  is  to  be  out  of  the  city  for  a  week. 
That  is  good — prime.  Now  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  get 
the  girl  away  for  a  few  hours — quite  far  away,  and  have 
her  leave  the  child  with  you.  No  danger  now  with  Mr. 
Baldwin  away.  You  cannot  have  the  little  dear  and 
her  away  so  long.    Do  you  see?  " 

"  Yes,  I  see,  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  and  the  man  contin- 
ued: 

"  Give  her  liberty  for  one  day,  poor  child ;  let  her  go 
to  the  front  door  for  fresh  air.  Charge  Chloe  not  to  lose 
sight  of  her  for  a  moment;  then  have  a  sudden  attack — 
scream  for  the  girl,  and  when  she  returns  to  the  door  the 
child  is  gone — '  kidnapped'  you  know,  don't  you  ?  That's 
the  sum  and  substance  of  the  whole  thing.  You  can  do 
that,  can't  you?  and  then  lay  in  spasms,  or  something  of 
that  sort.  'All  brought  on  by  the  darling's  being  spirited 
away.'  Now,  remember,  work  your  cards  well,  and 
leave  the  rest  to  me.  I  rather  think  it  had  better  be 
finished  up  to-morrow,  provided  the  day  is  fine — the 
sooner  it  is  over  the  better,  I  'spose,  for  all  concerned," 
and  saying  he  would  see  her  in  the  morning,  went  back 
to  the  kitchen. 

To  say  that  Mrs.  Baldwin  was  going  on  with  this 
nefarious  w^ork  without  sometimes  feeling  a  little  trem- 
bling  and  fear  lest  she  might  be  detected,  would  be  say- 
ing more  than  the  truth  w^ould  warrant.  Sometimes  she 
would  fancy  the  whole  scheme  was  known  to  her  husband 
and  Minnie,  and  that  they  w^ere  keeping  watch  of  her 
movements — permitting  her  to  go  on  until  they  caught 
her  so  completely  in  her  own  trap  that  she  w^ould  be 
obliged  to  confess  all.  One  cause  for  such  fears  was  that 
a  few  days  previous,  in  looking  through  her  husband's 


188  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

desk,  she  found  a  picture  of  a  cLild  which  she  thought 
could  be  no  other  than  Nellie,  and  yet  she  had  not 
known  of  her  being  absent  from  the  house  at  any  time 
since  coming  into  it,  and  felt  disposed  to  cliide  Minnie 
for  deception,  but  refrained  for  reasons  best  known  to 
herself. 

The  next  morning  after  Minnie  had  received  her  let- 
ter she  met  her  Aunt  in  the  breakfast-room,  but  seeing 
that  she  was  not  disposed  to  be  very  communicative, 
did  not  intrude  upon  her  quiet,  until  they  were  about 
to  leave  the  room,  when  in  her  kindly  manner,  she  said: 
"Is  there  any  way  in  which  I  can  serve  you,  Aunty?  " 

Mrs.  Baldwin  looked  up  and  said  in  a  half-musing 
way  :  "  Well — not  now,  dear — I  had  thought  of  going 
out  to  attend  a  little  business  this  morning,  and  it  is 
quite  important  that  it  should  not  be  postponed  longer; 
but  I  find  myself  so  utterly  helpless  this  morning  that 
it  would  not  be  safe  for  me  to  venture  out,  and  if  I  am 
not  better  in  an  hour,  would  you  mind  attending  to  it 
for  me?" 

Minnie  readily  consented,  saying:  ''it  would  be  a 
pleasure  to  do  anything  she  could  for  her." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin,  rising  to  leave  the 
room,  "you  had  better  take  the  child  out  for  a  walk  this 
morning,  as  she  needs  to  take  the  air.  There  is  no 
danger  now,  as  your  Uncle  is  out  of  the  city,  and  when 
you  return  in  about  an  hour  come  to  my  room,  and  then 
if  I  am  no  better  I  shall  be  glad  to  avail  myself  of  your 
kindness." 

After  an  hour  Minnie  softly  opened  her  Aunt's  door, 
and  finding  her  reclining  on  a  sofa,  said:  "  Excuse  me, 
Aunty;  are  you  no  better?  " 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


189 


O,  no;  but  much  worse,"  came  from  the  lips  of 
the  sufferer. 

''Well  then,"  said  Minnie, 'as  I  have  lost  my  little 
Nellie  I  shall  be  happy  to  devote  the  day  to  you." 

''TFAa^.^"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Baldwin,  starting  to  her 
feet  with  a  wild  glare  in  her  eyes.  "What  is  it?  Where 
is  she?    Do  tell  me  quick,  or  I  shall  be  raving  7nad!^^ 

Minnie  taking  hold  of  her,  put  her  gently  in  a  seat, 
and  said  laughingly,  Do  not  go  crazy  just  yet,  Aunty, 
she  is  in  good  hands  for  the  day.  I  met  Doctor  Bien 
while  out  walking,  and  he  was  delighted  at  seeing  her 
for  the  first  time  since  we  brought  her  from  his  house, 
which  you  know  is  three  months  ago,  and  he  begged  me 
to  let  him  take  her;  he  was  on  his  way  over  to  Brooklyn 
to  see  Mrs.  Jennings,  the  sick  woman  with  whom  Jane 
Coil  is  stopping,  and  from  there  would  go  directly  home 
and  return  the  child  this  evening,  and  common  courtesy 
would  not  allow  me  to  refuse  him,  he  has  ever  been 
such  a  good  friend  to  both  her  and  her  mother — attended 
Mrs.  Clare  all  through  her  illness,  and  Jane  says,  was 
like  a  father  in  his  tender  care  of  her."  As  she  concluded 
Mrs.  Baldwin  said: 

"  I  am  glad  it  is  no  worse.  Do  you  know  that  I  have 
become  so  fond  of  that  child  that  I  am  in  constant  fear 
lest  something  may  happen  to  her;  perhaps  my  nerves 
are  more  unstrung  than  usual  on  account  of  my  contin- 
ued worrying  about  having  to  give  you  both  up,  and 
just  as  you  came  in  I  was  having  a  horrid  dream,  in 
which  I  saw  her  falling  down  the  back  stairs,  and  that 
is  why  I  was  so  startled  when  you  said  that  you  had  lost 
her."  Then  after  lying  back  in  her  chair  for  a  moment 
with  her  eyes  closed,  during  which  time  Minnie  sat  look- 


190 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


ing  at  her  in  silence,  wondering  in  lier  young  mind  why 
it  was  that  such  beauty  of  form  and  feature  must  be 
subjected  to  the  torture  of  nerves  so  easily  unstrung,  and 
w^hich  necessitated  her  seclusion  from  the  pleasures  of 
the  gay  world  to  which  she  aspired.  At  length  she 
said:  "When  I  come  to  look  over  my  papers^  Minnie, 
I  find  that  it  is  to-morrow  instead  of  to-day  that  my 
business  is  to  be  transacted,  and  as  I  shall  have  no  far- 
ther use  for  you,  perhaps  you  had  better  go  out  shop- 
ping if  you  like,  or  spend  the  day  as  best  suits  you,  and 
I  will  rest." 

It  was  but  a  few  moments  after  she  left  when  the 
servants  below  heard  the  McClellan  bell  give  a  hasty 
ring,  and  he  started  hurriedly  up  the  back  stairs,  while 
the  girls  as  usual  exchanged  glances.  This  visit,  how- 
ever, proved  a  short  one,  Mrs.  Baldwin  informing  him 
briefly  that  their  work  could  not  be  accomplished  that 
day,  and  "  I  will  inform  you  in  the  morning  what  the 
outlook  for  to-morrow  will  be,"  and  seeing  the  man 
approaching  nearer  her  she  said :  "  Leave  me  alone,  sir, 
until  I  summon  you  again." 

As  McClellan  went  out  he  wondered  at  her  coolness; 
but  considering  her  changeable  moods,  he  was  not  much 
surprised.  As  he  closed  the  door  after  him,  Mrs.  Bald- 
win began  walking  back  and  forth  across  the  room  with 
rapid  strides  and  flushed  face,  reminding  one  of  a  fiery 
steed  upon  the  war  path.  At  last  she  muttered  in  audi- 
ble tones  through  her  set  teeth:  "Yes,  there  is  another 
man  that  imtst  die!  MinniB  said  that  Doctor  Bien  was 
Mrs.  Clare's  physician,  and  was  like  a^father  to  her  and 
to  me.  That  means  that  he  is  acquainted  with  lier 
entire  history,  and  when  things  take  an  unfavorable 


A  STORY  OF  REAJ.  LIFE. 


191 


turn  he  will  reveal  the  whole  thing,  and  I  doubt  not  but 
Minnie  is  in  possession  of  the  whole  affair  already,  for 
between  that  sneaking  Jane  Coil  and  that  contemptible 
old  dolt  of  a  doctor,  it  would  not  take  long  to  transfer  it 
to  her,  and  she,  the  little  snake  in  the  grass,  has  care- 
fully kept  it  from  me,  but  undoubtedly  has  informed 
her  Uncle  of  the  whole  affair,  and  the  four  together  are 
awaiting  developments,  and  when  the  right  time  comes 
will  come  upon  me  in  all  their  fury  and  avenge  her 
death,  which  I  meant  to,  and  probably  did  hasten,  by 
allowing  hunger  and  cold  to  chill  out  what  little  of  life 
and  hope  she  liad  left,  and  by  the  time  the  Merrills 
arrive  there  will  be  such  a  time  in  this  house  as  is  sel- 
dom witnessed." 

Again  prophesy  speaks  through  those  sinful  lips. 
"Well,  I  will  see,"  she  continued,  throwing  herself  upon 
the  sofa,  that  they  do  not  get  ahead  of  me.  Let  me 
see — I  can  be  very  sick  when  the  Doctor  brings  the  child 
home  this  evening,  'twould  look  better  to  consult  him 
than  to  send  for  another.  I  will  be  very  sick  for  a  long 
time — he  will  grow  weary — a  little  wine  will  revive  him. 
I  shall  ask  him  to  come  again  in  the  morning,  but  he 
will  never  come  again.  How  easy  that  will  all  be,"  and 
with  this  she  rang  for  McClellan,  and  asked  him  to 
bring  her  a  bottle  of  her  best  wine,  saying  that  she  felt 
very  nervous,  and  thought  it  would  quiet  her.  She 
opened  the  door  as  she  heard  him  approach,  took  the 
bottle  and  closed  the  door  again,  turned  the  key,  and 
went  on  tip-toe  to  her  dressing-table. 

Why  is  it  that,  when  people  are  about  wicked  work, 
they  always  go  with  a  soft  tread  as  if  to  deaden  the 
sound  and  prevent  it  reaching  the  Almighty's  ear?  Has 


192  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

it  not  thus  been  ever  since  the  dawning  of  Creation's 
early  morn  that  sin  seeks  to  hide  its  deformities  away 
from  the  Jehovah,  whose  voice  of  thunder  has  come 
rolling  down  through  the  ages:  "  The  soul  that  sinneth 
shall  die."  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill."  But  this  voice  fell 
unheeded  upon  the  ear  of  Mrs.  Baldwin,  as  she  took  from 
a  drawer  the  same  bottle  with  which  she  had  threatened 
her  own  life  if  foiled  or  betrayed;  and  after  turning 
out  a  glass  of  wine  for  her  own  use,  put  a  portion  of  the 
contents  of  the  vial  into  the  remainder,  and  carefully 
fastening  the  cork,  set  it  on  the  dressing-case  with  the 
glass  by  its  side,  and  chuckling  to  herself,  she  said: 

"  There  is  no  sin  in  this — better  for  him  to  depart  in 
peace,  leaving  neither  wife  nor  child  to  mourn,  than  for 
one  in  my  position  to  be  ruined  and  scorned  by  the 
scores  who  have  either  envied  or  admired  me,"  and  with 
these  consoling  thoughts  she  rang  for  a  servant  and 
asked  that  Minnie  be  sent  to  her  room  immediately, 
who,  when  she  came,  found  her  Aunt  lying  just  as  she 
had  left  her  in  the  morning,  and  in  her  deep  solicitude 
said: 

"Are  you  no  better.  Aunty  ? " 

"  No,  dear.  I  am  not  feeling  so  well,  and  I  sent  for 
you  to  say  that  I  would  like,  when  Docter  Bien  comes 
with  the  child,  that  you  would  detain  him  until  you  see 
me,  and  if  I  am  no  better,  I  will  have  him  prescribe  for 
me." 

"Why  wait  so  long.  Aunty?"  said  Minnie.  "Why 
not  send  for  Doctor  Hamilton;  he  would  understand  you 
better,  and  you  would  have  more  confidence  in  him  than 
in  a  stranger." 

"  No,  dear,"  said  the  invalid  between  her  moans.    "  I 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


193 


think  I  shall  like  Doctor  Bien  very  much  from  what  1 
hear  you  say  of  his  kind  fatherly  ways;  but  go  now  and 
do  as  I  request." 

Minnie  obeyed,  but  with  reluctance,  feeling  that  she 
ought  to  remain,  and  if  possible,  alleviate  her  suflferings. 
As  she  left,  Mrs.  Baldwin  arose  from  the  sofa,  and  taking 
up  again  her  line  of  march  across  the  room,  said: 

"  So,  little  Lady  Artful  thinks  I'd  better  call  Doctor 
Hamilton,  does  she?  Ah!  ha!  Well,  we  will  see.  That 
very  suggestion  confirms  my  suspicions  that  he  knows  the 
history  of  that  woman,  and  that  he  is  in  league  with 
them  to  defeat  my  plans,  and  she  knows  that  if  I  had 
the  opportunity  1  could  win  the  old  man  over  to  my 
side  to  be  my  ally.  But  that  is  not  my  object.  I  want 
to  get  him  where  he  may  not  confirm  any  reports  that 
may  be  set  afloat,  and  I  will  do  it." 

Meantime  Doctor  Bien  found  his  patient  quite  com- 
fortable and  surrounded  by  friends  w  ho  had  come  from 
a  distance  to  visit  her  in  her  pleasant  home  in  Brooklyn. 
After  remaining  a  few  moments  the  Doctor  proposed 
that  Jane  go  out  with  Nellie  and  himself  for  a  little 
airing,  as  her  pale  cheeks  indicated  she  had  been  too 
long  shut  in  from  the  sunshine,  to  which  all  parties 
agreed. 

While  out,  the  conversation  turned  upon  the  child, 
who  seemed  to  be  the  center  of  attraction  after  their 
long  separation,  w^hose  delighted  prattle  about  everything 
amused  them  greatly.    At  length  the  Doctor  said : 

"  By  the  way,  Jane,  did  you  ever  learn  from  Mrs. 
Clare  anything  of  her  early  history?  I  used  every 
strategem  in  my  power  to  do  so;  but  I  was  no  wiser  the 
day  she  died  than  on  the  morning  I  made  my  first  call?  '' 

12 


194  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  I  never  asked  her,"  she  replied,  in  a  subdued  tone, 
for  some  how  or  other  the  mention  of  that  name  always 
affected  her  as  no  other  one  did,  "  and  all  I  know  is  the 
little  she  chose  to  tell  me,  and  that  I  was  under  promise 
never  to  reveal  except  it  was  necessary  in  order  to  secure 
the  child  a  desirable  home,  and  that  was  so  easily  accom- 
plished without,  that  I  feel  now  that  it  is  to  be  forever 
a  sealed  book  with  me."  Her  quiet,  dignified  answer 
was  suflScient  to  restrain  the  Doctor  from  further  ques- 
tioning. SulSce  it  to  say,  that  he  was  a  true  type  of  the 
well-bred  Scotch  gentleman;  so  the  subject  was  at  once 
dismissed. 

The  sun  had  journeyed  far  away  toward  the  West 
when  the  Doctor,  with  little  Nellie  by  the  hand,  ascended 
the  steps  of  Ned  Baldwin's  home.  Just  inside  the  door 
he  was  met  by  Minnie,  who  had  passed  the  afternoon  in 
loneliness  and  anxious  solicitude  regarding  her  Aunt. 
After  her  cheerful  greeting  of  the  Doctor  and  bestowing 
a  kiss  on  the  little  ruby  lips  of  Nellie,  she  said:  ''Walk 
in.  Doctor.  Aunty  has  been  quite  ill  to-day,  and  if  no 
better,  wishes  to  consult  with  you."  And  seating  him 
in  the  library,  she  hastened  away  to  Mrs.  Baldwin's 
room,  where,  when  she  entered,  she  found  her  Aunt 
writhing  in  pain. 

''O,  dear  child!"  she  shrieked,  "will  that  Doctoi 
never  come?    O,  I  shall  die!    I  shall  die!  " 

"Yes,  Aunty,"  said  Minnie,  "the  Doctor  is  here. 
Shall  I  bring  him  right  in?" 

"Yes.  Quick!  or  it  will  be  too  late,"  she  said, 
between  a  shriek  and  a  groan,  which  caused  Minnie  to 
go  with  her  utmost  speed,  and  called  out  before  she 
reached  the  library  door. 


A  810RY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


195 


"Come  quick,  Doctor;  she  is  in  great  pain,  and 
thinks  she  is  dying." 

The  Doctor  went  witli  alacrity  to  the  sick  room.  As 
he  entered  he  was  greeted  by  Mrs.  Baldwin  with  an 
eager  entreaty  to  do  something  for  her  immediately. 
She  had  wrought  herself  up  to  that  pitch  of  nervous 
excitement,  that  upon  examining  her  pulse,  the  Doctor 
felt  greatly  alarmed.  Great  drops  of  prespiration  were 
streaming  down  lier  flushed  and  swollen  face,  and  it  was 
utterly  impossible  for  him  to  locate  her  pain,  first  being 
in  one  part  and  then  in  another  of  her  body.  Mustard 
paste  were  applied  freely;  morphine  in  heavy  doses 
administered,  and  yet  the  suffering  woman  found  no 
relief  for  some  time,  and  when  she  did,  it  was  only  to 
toss  and  moan  and  mutter  incoherent  sentences.  At 
one  time  she  started  up  in  a  morphine  deliria,  and  look- 
ing about,  said: 

''Did  he  drink  the  wine?"  and  she  sank  back  with  a 
ringing,  "  Ha!  ha!  He  didn't  know  that  it  meant  death!" 

The  Doctor  paid  no  attention  to  the  words  of  the 
woman,  he  being  accustomed  to  the  various  effects  of 
that  drug;  but  with  soothing  words  endeavored  to  quiet 
her,  and  thus  the  long  hours  of  the  night  wore  away; 
he  never  leaving  her  bedside,  but  with  a  mother's  ten- 
derest  care,  administering  to  her  every  want.  He  would 
not  have  left  Minnie  alone  even  could  he  have  felt  that 
there  was  no  necessity  for  his  remaining  for  any  other 
purpose  than  to  share  her  watching;  but  as  the  day 
began  to  dawn,  and  seeing  his  patient  resting  quietly, 
he  said: 

"  I  will  now  go  home  for  a  few  hours'  rest,  and  if, 
upon  waking,  her  symptoms  should  be  worse,  let  me 


196  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

know  immediately,"  adding,  as  he  was  about  to  go  out, 

the  powders  she  has  taken  may  produce  nausea,"  and 
bidding  Minnie  rest  upon  the  sofa  until  her  services  were 
required,  he  took  his  leave. 

The  sun  was  far  up  in  the  sky  when  Minnie  was 
aroused  from  her  deep  sleep  by  the  unmistakable  evi- 
dence that  her  Aunt  was  very  sick,  and  in  her  wrench- 
ings  was  subjected  to  the  most  excruciating  pain  caused 
by  the  copious  application  of  mustard.  Never  having 
been  really  sick  in  her  life,  she  was  greatly  alarmed, 
fearing  the  cup  she  had  prepared  for  another  might  have 
been  given  to  her  while  under  the  influence  of  the  drug, 
and  as  soon  as  she  was  sufficiently  easy  to  do  so,  she 
asked  Minnie  if  they  had  given  her  wine  during  the 
night,  and  receiving  a  negative  answer,  she  continued: 

Did  any  one  taste  it?  I  observed  that  it  was  unfit  to 
drink,  and  intended  having  it  removed,  but  neglected  it," 
saying  which,  she  asked  Minnie  to  ring  for  McClellan, 
who,  when  he  came,  was  asked  to  turn  it  out,  as  it  was 
unfit  for  use;  she,  doubtless,  fearing  that  during  her  ill- 
ness some  mistake  might  be  made. 

As  McClellan  went  through  the  hall  he  muttered  to 
himself:  ''There  is  another  of  her  silly  whims,  I 
tasted  that  wine  before  I  took  it  to  her,  and  there  is  no 
better  in  the  State;  and  if  I  had  not  just  had  all  I  could 
master,  I  would  mighty  soon  put  it  out  of  sight;  but  I 
shall  not  waste  it,  but  put  it  in  the  cellar,  and  when  my 
lady  gets  over  this  finical  spell  she  will  drink  it  and  call 
it  the  best  she  has  had,"  and  suiting  the  action  to  the 
words,  it  was  set  carefully  away  with  the  other  bottles. 

At  ten  o'clock,  the  Doctor  returned  to  find  his  patient 
resting  quietly,  with  apparently  no  pain,  excepting  as 
r 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  197 

she  attempted  to  move,  and  finding  no  symptoms  indi- 
cating disease,  informed  her  that  unless  she  requested, 
he  would  not  return,  as  perfect  quiet  was  the  most  she 
now  needed. 

After  he  left,  turning  to  Minnie,  she  said:  ''As  I  am 
quite  comfortable,  Janet  can  do  all  for  me  that  I  shall 
require,  and  I  would  like  you  to  attend  to  that  business 
for  me  to-day;  besides,"  she  added,  "the  ride  will  do 
you  good.  I  have  arranged  it  so  you  will  only  have  to 
deliver  the  notes  to  the  places  indicated  on  each,  and 
await  an  answer.  I  shall  be  very  lonely  without  you, 
and  wish  you  would  bring  that  darling  little  girl  in  to 
stay  with  me,  her  innocent  chattering  will  drive  all  the 
loneliness  away." 

"  1  had  thought,"  said  Minnie,  "  of  taking  her  with 
me,  but  if  she  will  be  any  comfort  to  you,  I  will  gladly 
give  up  the  thought.    When  shall  I  go?" 

''Right  away,"  said  Mrs.  Baldwin.  "  Order  Janet  to 
set  lunch,  and  John  to  be  at  the  door  within  half  an 
hour." 

As  Minnie  went  to  give  the  orders,  Mrs.  Baldwin, 
ringing  for  McOlellan,  gave  orders  that  he  be  ready  to 
go  on  with  his  work  in  just  one  hour,  in  order  to  give 
him  ample  time  to  get  well  out  of  reach  before  Minnie's 
return.  The  bright,  warm  J une  air  was  exhilarating. 
The  hurry  and  bustle  everywhere  presented  might  have 
revived  and  cheered  Minnie  to  excess  had  it  not  been 
for  a  vague,  undefined  sense  of  some  impending  sorrow 
above  which  she  could  not  rise.  She  tried  to  think  it 
was  the  effects  of  the  night  of  excitement  and  watching, 
and  to  her  the  day  seemed  almost  endless,  and  the 
errands  without  number,  and  the  delay  experienced  by 


198  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

not  readily  finding  some  of  the  places,  while  others  were 
not  to  be  found  at  all,  as  no  such  streets  were  known  in 
the  city.  At  length,  weary  and  disheartened,  she 
ordered  John  to  return  home,  which  they  did  through 
the  fast-coming  darkness;  and  weary  with  her  long  and 
fruitless  search,  she  longed  for  the  quiet  and  rest  of  her 
own  room.  But  upon  entering  the  house  she  found 
everything  in  the  wildest  confusion,  servants  hurrying 
to  and  fro,  trying  in  vain  to  get  the  gas  lighted;  doors 
thrown  wide  open  from  basement  to  attic;  McClellan 
and  Janet  running  to  Mrs.  Baldwin's  room  and  then 
back  again,  endeavoring  to  quiet  her  hysterical  screams 
of: 

Oh!  the  child!  the  dear,  dear  child!" 

Minnie,  knowing  that  something  dreadful  had  hap- 
pened, took  the  match  from  Janet's  trembling  hand  and 
lighted  the  gas,  and  then,  as  a  general  would  quell  a 
stampeding  army,  she  commanded  silence,  and  her  clear 
voice  had  the  magic  power  to  secure  instant  quiet  as  far 
as  the  servants  were  concerned.  But  it  evidently  did 
not  reach  Mrs.  Baldwin's  room,  as  from  it  still  issued  a 
succession  of  shrieks. 

"What  is  it?"  said  Minnie. 

Whereupon  each  one  began  in  a  sobbing,  half-articu- 
late way  to  answer  the  question,  from  which  she  could 
only  understand  that  something  had  befallen  Nellie. 
Again  she  said,  "Silence,"  and  turning  to  Janet  asked 
her  to  relate  what  had  happened,  which  J anet  did  with 
all  the  calmness  she  could  command,  telling  her  that 
during  her  absence  the  child  had  been  taken  away — 
stolen  by  some  unknown  person — and  that  Mrs.  Bald- 
win was  heart-broken,  and  in  spasms. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


199 


Minnie  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  hastened  to  her 
Aunt's  room,  whom  she  found  in  great  agony,  fairly 
clinching  her  nails  into  her  flesh,  as  if  to  find  relief  by 
drawing  the  blood  from  her  veins. 

Minnie  made  vain  attempts  to  attract  her  attention; 
then  turning  to  McClellan,  (who  was  standing  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  room  with  his  hands  thrust  deep  in 
his  pockets,  and  bracing  his  shoulders  against  the  win- 
dow casing,  forming  a  complete  picture  of  indolent  con- 
tentment), she  said,  hurriedly,  "When  was  the  child  first 
missing?  and  what  have  you  done  toward  finding  her? 
Have  you  had  a  physician  for  Aunty?"  all  three  ques- 
tions being  asked  as  one. 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  as  to  how  he  should  answer, 
then  stepping  toward  her  and  assuming  a  more  dignified 
air,  he  said  : 

"Wall,  she  was  missing  first  about  half-past  two  ;  but 
we  thought  she  had  gone  up  to  your  room,  and  didn't 
feel  uneasy  much  until  about  four  o'clock,  and  then  me 
and  the  girls  hunted  all  over  the  house  before  we  told 
Mrs.  Baldwin ;  for  we  didn't  want  to  excite  her,  seein' 
she  w^as  so  sick  like,  and  when  we  did  tell  her  she  went 
right  straight  into  that  kind  of  a  spell,  and  has  had  it  on 
and  ofi"  pretty  much  ever  since.  But  we  expected  you 
every  minute,  so  we  didn't  send  for  a  doctor,  or  search 
outside  for  the  child. 

"  Have  you  not  notified  the  police,  or  sentnotice  tothe 
newspapers,  or  taken  any  steps  toward  the  recovery  of 
the  child  ?"  said  Minnie,  showing  great  excitement." 
No,"  said  the  man;  "  we  w^as  waiting  for  you." 

"Well,  now  that  I  am  here,  there  is  no  longer  excuse 


200  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

for  delay.  Summon  Doctor  Bien  to  come  immediately 
to  Aunty." 

This  order  seemed  to  have  the  effect  of  bringing  Mrs. 
Baldwin  to  consciousness,  as  she  cried  out,  "  No,  no;  do 
not  bring  that  hateful  old  demon  here  again.  It  is  he, 
and  no  one  else,  who  has  been  the  instrument  in  having 
that  dear  child  taken  from  us. — O,  how  can  I  survive 
it?  it  is  so  dreadful — and  that  was  his  design  when  he 
took  her  out  for  a  ride  yesterday.  I  see  through  the 
miserable,  designing  old  wretchy 

"  Oh,  no.  Aunty;  he  would  do  no  such  thing  as  that. 
He  could  have  kept  her  from  us  in  the  first  place  had  he 
wanted  her." 

Minnie  had  anticipated  the  quieting  of  Mrs.  Baldwin's 
suspicions  by  these  remarks,  and  was  astonished  when 
her  Aunt  declared  that  she  knew  it  was  him,  as  he  had 
been  seen  to  drive  slowly  past  the  house  two  or  three 
times  during  the  day,  and  as  soon  as  the  child  was  miss- 
ing she  had  sent  McClellan  directly  to  him,  and  all  he 
would  was  that  he  had  not  seen  her,  and  had  mani- 
fested no  interest  in  the  matter.  Then  turning  to 
McClellan,  she  said :    "  You  may  call  Doctor  Hamilton." 

Every  moment  seeming  an  hour  to  Minnie  until  some- 
thing could  be  done  to  find  the  child,  she  summoned 
J anet  to  the  bedside  of  her  Aunt,  and  directed  the  serv- 
ants to  close  the  doors  and  restore  the  house  to  order. 
She  then  hastened  away  to  the  police  headquarters,  and 
from  thence  to  the  office  of  several  of  the  morning  papers. 
On  her  return,  she  let  herself  noiselessly  in  at  the  s>de 
entrance.  She  found  all  quiet,  save  what  sounded  very 
like  suppressed  laughter  of  two  or  three  persons  coming 
from  the  direction  of  her  Aunt's  room.    The  door  stood 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


201 


ajar,  and  she  heard  Doctor  Hamilton  say  as  she  was 
about  to  enter,  "That  was  splendidly  done." 

Seeing  Minnie,  he  arose,  put  up  his  finger  as  a  sign 
for  silence,  and  came  forward,  and  with  one  of  his  low 
bows  and  bland  smiles,  he  remarked :  "  I  have  suc- 
ceeded in  quieting  your  Aunt  most  splendidly ;  but  I 
see,"  and  he  glanced  toward  the  bed,  "  sLe  must  have 
heard  your  step."  Taking  her  arm  he  walked  to  the 
farther  end  of  the  hall  and  Continued,  "those  spasms 
will  soon  wear  her  out  if  she  is  not  kept  perfectly  quiet, 
and  your  presence  seems  to  bring  this  sad  occurrence 
back  to  her  mind,  as  she  fully  realizes  that  you  share 
her  grief.  I  shall  remain  with  her  through  the  night, 
and  you  had  better  go  to  your  room  and  try  to  rest.  I 
think  this  matter  will  not  prove  serious;  the  little  one 
has  doubtless  strayed  into  some  neighboring  house,  and 
could  neither  tell  who  she  was  nor  where  she  belonged, 
and  in  the  morning  they  will  take  proper  measures  to 
ascertain;  so  do  not  worry,  for  all  will  be  right." 

"I  knew  1  could  easily  get  rid  of  her.  I  have  sent 
her  off  to  dreamland,  so  now^  go  on  with  your  part  of 
the  story.  Mack,"  said  the  Doctor,  as  he  seated  himself 
in  the  easy  chair  drawn  close  to  Mrs.  Baldwin's  bedside. 
Minnie,  however,  was  not  to  be  so  easily  reconciled.  Her 
grief-laden  heart  w^as  not  yet  ready  to  enter  "  dreamland," 
so  calling  Janet,  whom  the  Doctor  had  dismissed  from 
the  sick  room  on  his  arrival,  together  they  searched, 
for  Minnie's  satisfaction,  the  entire  house,  notwithstand- 
ing the  girls  had  been .  over  it  several  times — for  they 
had  become  very  much  attached  to  the  little  girl,  and 
their  grief  was  unfeigned  at  her  strange  fate — and 
through  all  the  search  they  saw  nothing  to  awaken  hope 


202  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

in  Minnie's  heart,  except  in  one  room  where  they  found 
»ome  small  boxes  just  outside  a  clothes -room  door  as  if 
some  child  in  search  of  amusement  had  drawn  them  out, 
but  which  Janet  explained,  by  saying  Mrs.  Baldwin 
had  put  them  there  while  getting  out  some  dresses  to 
send  away  to  be  remodeled. 

^'When  ?  "  said  Minnie,  knowing  they  were  not  there 
when  she  left. 

"  Between  four  and  five  this  afternoon,"  the  girl 
replied  rather  hesitatingly  : 

"  What  ? "  said  Minnie,  "  after  the  child  was  gone  !  " 

"Well — yes,"  said  Janet  ;  "but  us  girls  didn't  know  it 
then,  and  she  thought  she  wouldn't  tell  us,  as  she 
thought  she  had  gone  to  sleep  some  place  about  the 
house,  and  would  come  around  again  all  right,  and  she 
didn't  tell  us  until  McClellan  came  back.  You  know 
she  holds  counsel  with  him  about  everything."  The 
last  remark  was  so  strongly  tinctured  with  sarcasm  that 
Minnie  gave  her  a  look  of  reproof,  as  she  asked  where 
McClellan  had  been,  and  what  time  her  Aunt  was  taken 
worse,  to  which  Janet  replied: 

"1  think  he  was  out  in  the  city  on  errands  for  Mrs. 
Baldwin.  We  never  know  anything  about  his  business ; 
but  Mrs.  Baldwin  was  about  the  house  fixing  up  her 
dresses  to  send  away  until  dinner  was  called,  and  when 
that  was  over,  McClellan  told  us  that  Nellie  could  not 
be  found,  and  just  then  we  heard  Mrs.  Baldwin  scream- 
ing as  if  she  had  just  found  it  out,  but  Chloe  says  she 
told  her  as  soon  as  the  child  was  missing,  and  that  was 
about  two  o'clock,  but  was  told  to  keep  quiet  as  you  had 
eome  back  and  taken  her  to  ride  while  she  was  in  her 
room." 


A  STORY  OF  REAV.  LIFE  203 

*'Wliat  time,"  questioned  Minnie  with  a  vacant  stare  c*c 
Janet,  "  did  McClellan  go  to  Doctor  Bien's  to  see  if  she 
was  there?" 

^'I  don't  know,"  said  Janet,  "I  didn't  miss  him  from 
the  house  until  he  came  back  after  five  o'clock.  Per- 
haps he  came  back  and  she  sent  him  before  we  knew 
that  he  had  returned." 

"That  must  liave  been  the  way,"  said  Minnie,  mus- 
ingly,  as  if  trying  to  penetrate  the  mystery,  hanging 
like  thick  drapery  about  her;  "but  go  to  your  rest,  Janet, 
and  leave  me  alone  with  God  and  my  sorrow." 


CHAPTER  XV. 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  MANIAC  OF  LONG  BRANCH. 

^^"What  does  this  mean?"  said  Ned  Baldwin  to  his 
wife  a  few  days  after  the  abduction  of  the  child,  holding 
up  a  paper,  and  pointing  to  the  head  lines,  "A  Child 
Lost."  ''Is  it  a  mistake  in  both  street  and  number  ?  I 
saw  the  article  and  hastened  back  to  the  city  to  learn 
what  it  all  meant." 

Mrs.  Baldwin  was  reclining  on  a  sofa  in  the  drawing- 
room  when  he  unexpectedly  entered. 

''Oh,  dear,"  she  replied  with  assumed  indifference. 
"1  do  wonder  if  this  foolish  thing  will  never  come  to  an 
end  ! " 

"  That  is  not  giviiig  an  explanation  of  the  mat- 
ter," said  her  husband,  with  some  impatience. 

"Well,  the  long  and  short  of  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Bald- 
win, slightly  irritated  by  his  persistency  ;  "Minnie  took 
'  a  fancy  to  a  little  girl  brought  her  by  one  of  our  help, 
and  she  being  lonely  while  I  was  confined  to  my  room 
thought  it  would  afford  her  amusement,  and  perhaps 
help  the  poor  wretches  some  if  she  would  use  her  cast- 
off  clothing  in  dressing  her,  so  she  had  her  here  for  a 
few  days  to  fit  the  garments,  and  one  day  while  Minnie 
was  out,  the  child  saw  her  mother  passing  and  cried  to 
go  home,  and  she  took  her  without  saying  anything,  as 
there  was  no  one  in  sight,  and  the  foolish  girl  fancied 
that  she  had  been  stolen,  and  had  that  notice  put  in  the 
,-204 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


205 


papers,  and  it  has  caused  quite  a  stir,  and  there  is  no 
telling  when  it  will  stop.  She  is  very  much  chagrined 
that  it  has  produced  such  a  sensation,  and  does  not  like 
to  hear  it  spoken  of,  so  as  you  value  her  happiness,  do 
not  comment  upon  it  in  her  presence,  and  if  she  should 
speak  of  it,  tell  her  you  know  all  about  it  and  think 
it  a  foolish  thing  for  her  to  grieve  over,  and  change 
the  subject,  for  Doctor  Hamilton  says  there  is  great  dan- 
ger of  her  becoming  a  monomaniac  on  the  subject.  She 
sometimes  imagines  the  child  was  one  she  had  adopted, 
and  that  it  cannot  be  found,  because  it  has  not  been 
returned  to  her.  The  Doctor  says  her  most  alarming 
symptoms  are  that  slie  is  perfectly  calm,  and  with  great 
method  goes  about  instituting  search  through  the  city, 
even  since  we  have  taken  her  to  the  child's  home  that 
she  might  identify  her,  but  all  she  does  is  to  shake  her 
Iiead,  and  say,  'tnis  is  not  my  Nellie;'  and  the  Doc 
tor  and  I  think  that  she  has  our  Nellie  mixed  up  in 
some  way  with  the  child  whose,  real  name  is  May." 

This  explanation  served  for  time  to  satisfy  Mr.  Bald- 
win, but  his  great  anxiety  for  his  niece  caused  him  to 
seek  an  immediate  interview  with  Doctor  Hamilton, 
who  told  him  that  it  was  not  the  loss  of  the  child  s^ 
much  as  the  sudden  shock  to  her  nervous  system,  which 
was  very  much  impaired  by  her  recent  illness.  "  In  my 
opinion,"  said  the  Doctor,  ''the  girl  needs  a  change 
— more  outdoor  exercise.  Good  fresh  country  air  will 
do  infinitely  more  toward  restoring  her  than  all  the 
drugs  in  the  city."  Mr.  Baldwin  suggested  the 
farm  as  a  quiet  place,  with  plenty  of  fruit,  milk,  and 
fresh  air,  but  the  Doctor  thought  that  too  near  the  city; 
besides  that  it  w^ould  prove  monotonous  in  less  than  two 


206  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

days,  and  spoke  of  Long  Branch  as  the  best  place  for 
her.  "  Plenty  of  attractions  there,  just  which  she  most 
needed  to  keep  her  mind  occupied." 

Mr.  Baldwin  sat  for  a  while  with  his  head  bowed  as 
if  in  deep  thought,  and  then  drawing  a  long,  heavy 
breath,  while  tears  glistened  in  his  kind  eyes,  he  said: 

We  expect  her  parents  in  about  a  week.  Had  we  not 
better  wait  and  see  what  they  think  is  best  to  do?  Poor 
little  chick,  she  has  never  seemed  quite  like  herself. 
She  has  been  looking  very  sad  since  Nellie  was  married, 
and  Mrs.  Baldwin  has  been  too  ill  and  nervous  to  be 
much  company  for  her.  Hadn't  we  better  have  her  ride 
out  every  day  until  they  come?" 

"No,  no!"  said  the  Doctor, with  emphasis,  "  she  sees 
quite  enough  of  the  city  now.  She  wants  to  stop  and 
^look  at  every  child  she  meets,  thinking  she  will  lind  thai 
one,  and  every  policeman  has  to  be  interrogated,  and  it 
is  making  her  mry  conspicuous.  My  advice  is  to  take 
her  right  away  to  some  place  where  she  will  see  all  new 
sights,  and  when  her  parents  come  they  can  go  right  to 
her.  She  may  object  to  going,  and  that,  too,  in  such  a 
rational  way,  that  you  may  be  persuaded  that  there  is 
no  need  of  it;  in  fact  you  may  not  be  able  to  detect  the 
slightest  indication  of  insanity,  but  if  you  can  persuade 
her  to  go  down  with  you  for  a  day,  and  then  prolong  the 
stay  from  day  to  day  until  her  parents  come,  she  will  be 
content  and  recover  rapidly."  With  this  Mr.  Baldwin 
bade  him  good  day;  and  in  a  meditative  mood  started 
homeward.  He  had  become  so  used  to  his  wife's  sud- 
den fits  of  illness, — just  at  the  point  of  death  one  day, 
and  the  next  out  shopping  or  attending  a  party, — that 
he  no  longer  felt  alarm  at  anything  of  that  kind,  but  this 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


207 


was  a  departure  from  the  common  order  of  things,  and 
he  felt  greatly  concerned.  As  he  walked  leisurely  along, 
he  thought  what  a  great  calamity  it  would  be  if  the 
sprightly  little  Minnie  should  become  hopelessly  insane; 
and  then  he  eluded  himself  for  having  urged  her  to 
remain  with  them  so  long.  Just  then  a  voice  close 
beside  him  said,  "  Stop  a  moment,  Mr.  Baldwin." 

It  proved  to  be  a  policeman,  who  wished  to  know  if 
they  had  received  any  tidings  of  the  lost  child. 

That  part  of  the  affair  seemed  so  ridiculous  to  him, 
that  it  was  with  difficulty  he  suppressed  a  smile  as  he 
said,  "O,  that  is  all  right;"  and  then  in  a  confidential 
way  related  the  story  as  told  him  by  his  wife,  and  ofifered 
as  an  excuse  for  Minnie's  strange  conduct,  poor  health 
and  a  partially  unsettled  mind.  As  he  was  about  to 
pass  on  he  added,  "  You  can  give  up  the  search  for  the 
little  pauper,  as  they  call  her,  for  she  is  safe  enough." 

"Little  pauper  !  did  you  say  ?  Did  you  ever  see 
her  ?  if  so,  you  would  not  allow  anyone  to  call  her  that," 
and  taking  from  his  side  pocket  a  small  ambrotype, 
"  she  looks  more  like  an  angel — the  sweetest  little  face 
that  I  ever  looked  upon.  Just  see  it.  You  have  been 
away,  and  I  think  the  young  woman  said  you  had  never 
seen  her." 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Baldwin,'  as  he  looked  upon 
the  picture,  and  perhaps  he  might  have  indulged  in  a 
hearty  laugh  had  it  not  brought  the  conviction  that 
Minnie  was  really  insane;  "this  is  a  picture  I  have  had 
in  my  library  for  weeks.  It  was  given  me  by  my  friend 
Brady,  and  as  you  will  have  no  farther  use  for  it  I  will 
take  it  home  again,  and  you  may  notify  the  police  force 
to  give  up  the  search," 


208  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

As  he  entered  his  home,  Minnie  was  just  coming 
down  from  her  room.  He  saw  at  a  glance  that  her  once 
rosy  cheeks  were  almost  as  white  as  her  dainty  muslin 
dress.  She  had  not  met  him  since  his  return,  in  fact 
did  not  know  that  he  had  returned,  and  at  sight  of  him 
she  ran  forward  and  throwing  her  arms  about  his  neck, 
burst  into  tears,  the  first  she  had  shed  since  Nellie's 
absence.  She  had  been  too  full  of  anxiety — too  earnest 
in  her  search — to  stop  for  that.  At  sight  of  one  who 
had  ever  manifested  kindly  sympathy  toward  her,  the 
tension  gave  way.  He  drew  her  gently  into  the  library 
and  seated  himself  beside  her,  and  without  a  word  fall- 
ing from  the  lips  of  either,  she  rested  her  head  upon  his 
great  warm  heart  and  sobbed  liked  a  child.  At  length 
when  he  saw  that  she  was  attempting  to  speak,  he  said: 

"There  now,  my  dear  girl,  I  would  not  cry  any  more. 
I  know  all  about  your  troubles,  and  am  very  sorry  for 
you,  but  it  will  all  come  right  by  and-by.  So  cheer 
up  ;  I  have  something  good  to  tell  you.  I  have  an 
old  friend  with  his  family  at  Long  Branch,  and  I  wish 
to  meet  him,  and  contemplate  making  the  trip  to-mor- 
row and  would  like  company,  and  as  your  Aunt  is  too 
ill  for  the  trip  I  wish  you  would  go.    Will  you  not  do 

BO?" 

Minnie  raised  her  head,  which  he  had  been  stroking 
all  the  while  he  was  talking  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother  soothing  her  child,  and  consenting  to  go,  said  : 

"To  add  to  my  troubles,  Uncle,  I  have  just  received 
a  letter  from  Mother,  saying  they  would  not  be  here,  on 
account  of  some  failure  in  their  plans,  till  two  weeks 
later  than  they  first  intended,  and  by  going  with  you  I 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  209 

can  pass  the  time  more  pleasantly,  and  perhaps,"  she 
added,  "  I  may  find  Nellie  there." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Uncle  Ned,  "  perhaps  you  can.  But 
go  now  and  get  your  trunk  ready,  for  we  may  find  it  so 
pleasant,  that  we  will  be  inclined  to  stay  more  than  the 
two  or  three  days  for  which  we  go.  At  all  events,  it 
is  best  to  be  prepared  for  any  emergency." 

As  Minnie  went  cheerfully  to  work  making  ready  for 
the  little  journey,  her  heart  went  out  in  spontaneous 
gratitude  toward  her  Uncle  for  his  kind  consideration  of 
her  pleasure  and  comfort. 

Mrs.  Baldwin  readily  coincided  with  the  opinion  of  the 
Doctor  and  Mr.  Baldwin  that  Long  Branch  was  the  best 
place  for  Minnie,  giving  her  husband  strict  orders  to 
remain  until  Mr.  Merrill  should  come,  saying,  "  I  will 
have  them  join  you  as  soon  as  possible,  and,  if  well 
enough  to  do  so,  will  accompany  them." 

*  ^        '         ^  *  -H-  * 

''Your  niece  is  an  invalid,  is  she  not,  Mr.  Baldwin  ? " 
said  his  friend  Mr.  Jaques  the  next  day  after  they 
arrived  at  Long  Branch. 

The  two  men  were  standing  a  little  way  from  the 
croquet  ground  where  Minnie  and  some  children  were 
playing,  Mrs.  Jaques  with  her  two  daughters  and  some 
other  ladies  forming  a  group  so  near  the  gentlemen  that 
their  conversation  was  readily  understood,  and  when 
this  question  was  asked,  they  being  desirous  to  know  all 
about  the  pale-faced  young  girl  to  whom  they  had  just 
been  introduced,  drew  near  to  hear  the  reply,  while  he 
in  his  innocence,  not  dreaming  of  any  but  the  best  of 
results,  told  the  whole  story,  beginning  with  her  sick- 

14 


210  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

ness  brought  on  by  being  caught  in  the  snow  storm,  and 
ending  with  the  ''stolen  child." 

The  party  of  ladies  were  intensely  interested,  and 
asked  all  manner  of  questions,  such  as  if  she  was  ever 
violent,  and  was  it  safe  to  have  the  children  with  her, 
etc.  They  soon  dispersed,  however,  and  not  many 
hours  after  that  Minnie  Merrill  was  the  observed  of  all 
observers.  The  young  ladies  drawn  to  her  vicinity  by 
curiosity,  would  titter  and  giggle  at  every  commonplace 
remark,  and  at  every  turn  she  made,  fancying  it  was  a 
freak  of  insanity.  Mothers  loitered  near,  fearing  she 
might,  in  a  sudden  frenzy,  do  harm  to  their  little  ones, 
who  were  delighted  with  her  company.  The  boys  took 
pleasure  in  rolling  stones  to  turn  the  course  of  her  ball, 
and  in  many  other  ways  annoying  her.  In  a  few  days^ 
feeling  she  could  not  endure  the  insolent  gaze  of  the  many 
who  were  constantly  near  her,  she  resolved  to  seclude  her- 
self in  her  own  room  until  her  Uncle  should  signify  his 
readiness  to  return  to  the  city.  Even  at  the  table  it 
was  manifest  to  her  that  she  was  attracting  unneces- 
sary attention.  Men  would  cast  furtive  glances,  or  look 
up  shyly  under  their  brows  at  her,  while  at  times  the 
women  would  sit  and  gaze  at  her  until  she  would  finish 
her  meal,  and  leave  the  room.  At  one  time  when  feeling 
in  quite  a  cheerful  mood,  and  observing  the  many  eyes 
turned  upon  her,  she  thought  of  Jonathan  Geddiz  and  her 
"  fits,"  and  an  involuntary  smile  passed  over  her  face, 
which  being  observed  by  a  lady  near  by,  who  whispered 
to  her  companion  so  loud  that  Minnie's  quick  ear  caught 
the  words,  "  I  do  wonder  what  Bhejhncies  she  sees." 

This  was  more  than  Minnie  could  endure,  and  she  left 
the  table  with  a  feeling  of  mingled  disgust  and  perplex- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


211 


ity.  Upon  reaching  the  first  hmdiiig  of  the  stairs,  and 
hearing  a  regular  stampede  of  feet,  and  rustling  of 
skirts,  she  turned  to  ascertain  its  cause,  and  beheld  five 
women,  each  one  clinging  to  her  napkin,  who  had  fol- 
lowed her  from  the  table,  and  for  a  moment  she  met  the 
gaze  of  those  ten  glaring  eyes  with  a  look  of  utter  con- 
tempt. Then  smiling  and  bowing  gracefully,  she  trip- 
ped hastily  on  toward  her  own  room,  hearing  a  sound  of 
voices  full  of  pity  from  below:  "  Poor  girl,"  O!  I  am 
so  sorry  for  her."  "  Isn't  it  too  bad  ?  I  do  wonder 
where  her  Uncle  is  !  "  "Let  us  follow  her,  she  may 
throw  herself  from  the  window  or  do  some  other  dread- 
ful thing."  As  her  door  closed  with  a  loud  bang,  Mr. 
Baldwin,  who  had  been  a  little  tardy  as  he  often  was,  at 
his  meals,  came  up  the  wide  steps  into  the  hall  where 
the  ladies  stood  as  if  riveted  to  the  spot,  when  almost 
simultaneously  they  began  telling  him  of  his  neice. 

Do  hasten  to  her,  she  has  gone  oflF  in  a  raving  tant- 
rum," said  one,  "  crazy  as  a  loon,"  said  another.  Mr. 
Baldwin  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  with  rapid  strides 
hastened  to  her  room.  Upon  entering  he  found  her 
walking  hastily  to  and  fro,  and  her  face  almost  crimson 
with  vexation.  "  Oh,  Uncle  Ned,"  she  cried  as  he 
entered,  "do,  for  pity  sake,  tell  me  what  this  all  me^ms; 
I  shall  go  crazy  if  we  do  not  get  away  from  this  hateful 
place.  I  shall  never  go  to  another  meal  in  this  house, 
never^  not  if  I  starve.  Neither  shall  I  leave  this  room 
until  I  go  out  for  the  last  time,  and  if  you  are  not  ready 
to  go  home  I  shall  go  alone,  and  that  just  as  soon  as  I 
can  get  ready." 

That  evening,  while  the  many  guests  interested  in  her 
were  waiting  on  the  verandah  for  the  dinner-bell  to 


212  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

sound,  tliey  saw  a  closely-veiled  lady  in  dark  gray 
travelint^  wr^ips  pass  out  leaning  npon  the  arnri  of  Mr. 
Baldwin  ;  and  tliey  knew  the  beautiful  young  maniac 
was  gone  from  their  midst. 

"  Janet,"  said  Mr.  Baldwin,  when  at  a  late  hour  that 
night  they  arrived  home,  ''will  you  please  see  that  Miss 
Minnie  is  made  comfortable  in  her  own  room.  You  need 
not  disturb  Mrs.  Baldwin  if  she  is  resting,  but  have 
McClellan  summon  Doctor  Hamilton.  She  has  had  a 
hard  chill  on  the  way  home,  and  her  fever  is  rising." 

"  Doctor  Hamilton  !  said  Janet,  with  surprise, 
"why  he  went  with  Mrs.  Baldwin." 

"With  Mrs.  Baldwin!  Where  to,  pray  ?" 

"  To  Saratoga ;  Didn't  you  know  they  were  going  ? 
They  went  the  next  day  after  you  left." 

"  To  Saratoga  ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Baldwin  ;  the  per- 
spiration starting  out  on  his  face,  "  and  she  sick  !  Who 
went  with  them  ?  " 

"  O,  the  SuUivans  and  Wyants,  and  I  don't  know  who 
all  from  Brooklyn,  and  she  said  when  your  sister  came 
to  have  her  go  on  to  Long  Branch,  and  when  you  got 
tired  staying  there  you  could  come  on  to  Saratoga." 

"  Well,  well,'-  said  Mr.  Baldwin,  stepping  around 
quite  lively  for  him,  "  this  was  rather  a  sudden  start, 
wasn't  it  ? " 

Janet,  feeling  disposed  to  be  rather  more  communi- 
cative, said  :  "  I  guess  not  ;  she  has  been  getting  ready 
for  several  weeks — packed  one  trunk  two  weeks  ago." 

During  this  conversation  Minnie  was  reclining  upon 
a  sofa  in  the  drawing-room,  hearing  it  all,  as  Mr.  Bald- 
win and  Janet  were  standing  in  the  hall  just  outside  the 


A  STORY  OF  REAJi  LIFE. 


213 


door,  where  he  had  met  the  girl  as  she  answered  his  bell. 
She  was  too  much  astonished  to  utter  a  word. 

"Well,  then,"  continued  Mr.  Baldwin,  ''tell  Mack 
to  go  for  some  doctor — any  one  he  can  get  the  quickest," 
whereupon  Minnie  said,  "  Go  for  Doctor  Bien,"  giving 
his  address. 

"  Well,  but,"  said  Janet,  "Mack  is  not  here.  He  left 
the  same  day  that  Mrs.  Baldwin  did,  and  the  dear  knows 
but  he  has  gone  to  Saratoga,  too." 

"  Then  call  up  John,  and  make  haste,"  said  Mr.  Bald- 
win, growing  vexed  and  excited  beyond  what  was  his 
nature;  and  striding  up  and  down  the  hall  he  muttered 
to  himself,  "  What  a  strange  woman  she  is  getting  to 
be.  My  patience  is  almost  exhausted  with  her.  I  do 
wonder  if  she  will  not  soon  have  to  have  that  faithful 
body-guard  of  hers.  Doctor  Hamilton,  and  that  detest- 
able McClellan  go  with  her  to  her  milliner's  and  dress- 
maker's," and  with  this  burst  of  indignation  he  went 
into  the  library,  and  heaving  a  deep  sigh,  seated  himself 
and  bowed  his  head  upon  the  table,  and  we  shall  never 
know  whether  his  thoughts  winged  their  way  to  Saratoga 
or  to  the  old  Keystone  State,  and  took  up  the  wail  of  "  It 
might  have  been."  Suffice  it  to  say  that  when  he  came 
into  the  hall  to  welcome  Dr.  Bien,  that  a  gray  pallor, 
which  had  never  before  rested  upon  his  ruddy  face,  was 
plainly  visible. 

"Janet,"  said  he  to  the  girl,  who  was  returning  to 
Minnie's  room  with  a  cup  of  tea,  "  show  the  Doctor 
up,"  and  then,  turning  to  the  Doctor,  he  said  :  "  I  shall 
remain  in  the  library,  and  when  you  come  down  please 
drop  in." 

"  You  need  have  no  fears  about  the  young  lady,"  said 


214  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOClETV; 

Dr.  Bien,  as  he  entered  the  library  and  took  the  seat 
proffered  by  Mr.  Baldwin,  fully  an  hour  afterward.  She 
has  been  unduly  excited,  and  the  consequence  has  been 
a  nervous  chill,  followed  by  a  slight  fever.  Otherwise 
she  is  all  right.  But,"  he  continued,  '^without  wait- 
ing for  comments  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Baldwin,  "  I  am 
surprised  that  she  has  not  been  sick  long  ago.  That 
dreadful  shock  and  disappointment  was  enough  to  rack 
stronger  nerves  than  hers,  and  had  she  not  possessed  an 
ardent  love  for  the  child  previous  to  taking  her,  the 
three  or  four  months  of  having  her  constantly  with  her 
and  feeling  that  she  was  her  own,  would  have  been  suf- 
ficient for  one  of  her  loving  nature  to  become  very  much 
attached,  and  the  sudden  snapping  of  that  tender  chord 
has  been  like  death;  and,"  he  continued,  so  rapidly  that 
Mr.  Baldwin  made  no  attempt  to  interrupt,  "  she  is  a 
remarkable  girl.  I  saw  that  w^hen  the  child's  mother 
was  buried,  and  during  the  child's  severe  illness.  There 
was  a  mutual  attachment  between  them  that  seldom 
exists  between  those  holding  such  contrasting  stations 
in  life.  I  was  glad  when  her  parents  consented  to  her 
taking  the  little  orphan,  and  I  feared  the  effect  it  might 
have  upon  her  when  I  saw  by  the  papers  that  she  was 
missing.  I  came  down  immediately,  but  Mrs.  Baldwin 
told  me  that  the  child  came  around  all  right  the  next 
morning,  that  she  had  gone  into  the  attic  and  fallen 
asleep,  where  she  remained  during  the  night,  and  that 
Minnie  had  returned  home  to  Cincinnati  and  had  taken 
her  with  her,  and,  as  1  supposed  that  she,  with  her 
little  "  birdling,"  as  she  called  her,  were  happy  in  her 
home  at  Mount  Auburn,  I  gave  up  the  search;  but  I 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


9A6 


am  deeply  pained  to  learn  to-night  that,  somehow  or 
other,  there  has  been  a  great  mistake  made." 

During  the  time  the  Doctor  was  talking  so  rapidly, 
Mr.  Baldwin  was  unconsciously  pulling  away  at  a  little 
cord  which  was  entwined  about  some  books  and  papers 
upon  the  table,  and  just  as  the  Doctor  concluded  this 
sentence,  in  his  overwrought  feelings,  he  gave  a  vigor- 
ous jerk  of  the  cord,  tossing  the  papers  and  books  pro- 
miscuously about.  The  Doctor  stooped  to  assist  him  in 
gathering  them  from  the  floor,  and  picking  up  a  small 
ambrotype  case  which  had  opened  in  the  falling,  and 
glancing  at  it,  exclaimed  :  There  is  the  child's  pict- 
ure now.  I  see,  and  I  believe  this  is  really  a  better  one 
than  she  sent  to  me,"  at  the  same  time  taking  one  from 
his  coat  pocket  and  comparing  them. 

Mr.  Baldwin,  with  blanched  face  and  trembling  hand, 
drew  from  his  own  pocket  the  one  taken  from  the  police- 
man, and  when  he  saw  that  the  three  were  duplicate 
copies,  his  astonishment  knew  no  bounds.  But  Ned 
Baldwin  was  a  cool-headed  man,  and  he  very  readily 
saw  that  to  show  his  ignorance  of  what  the  Doctor  had 
related  would  reflect  seriously  upon  his  wife's  integrity, 
as  well  as  to  represent  himself  in  an  unfavorable  light, 
and  he  only  said: 

"  Yes,  Doctor  ;  I,  too,  think  it  strange  that  the  girl 
is  not  sick  or  crazy.  By  the  way,  did  you  detect  any 
symptoms  to  arouse  your  fears  in  that  direction  ?  I 
mean  is  her  mind  in  the  least  impaired  by  the  occur- 
rence ? '' 

"  Not  at  all.  She  is  as  far  from  that  as  either  you  or  L 
She  has  told  me  to-night,  will  the  utmost  coolness,  of  her 
visit  to  the  Orphan's  Home,  and  to  many  places,  both 


216  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

in  this  city  and  out,  and  has  sent  every  picture  she  had, 
excepting  this  one,  to  different  places,  and  has  sent 
papers  to  all  parts  of  the  country  in  hopes  of  gaining 
some  clue  of  the  child's  whereabouts.  Why,  Mr.  Bald- 
win," continued  the  Doctor,  striking  his  fist  down  upon 
the  table  with  force,  "  that  girl  has  done  more  real  hard 
work  in  the  last  three  weeks,  and  with  more  metliod, 
than  many  of  our  best  men  could  do,  and  she  is  deter- 
mined to  keep  up  the  search  until  she  finds  the  child. 
But  I  must  be  going.  It  is  late.  I  will  call  in  the 
morning  ; "  and  pressing  the  hand  of  Mr.  Baldwin  in  a 
brotherly  way  went  out  again  into  the  darkness,  while 
Mr.  Baldwin,  feeling  a  warm  glow  of  friendship  and 
confidence  for  his  newly-made  acquaintance,  returned  to 
the  library,  his  mind  filled  with  strange  thoughts.  He 
was  distressed  with  the  thought  of  having  to  lose  faith 
in  his  wife,  or  suspect  Minnie  of  a  lack  of  confidence  in 
him.  "  Why,"  he  asked,  "  have  they  left  me  in  ignor- 
ance of  this  child's  existence;  why  have  they  both 
shunned  me  so  much  of  late;  have  I  made  myself 
so  repulsive  to  the  whole  household  that  I  am  thus 
ignored,"  and  there  in  the  solitude  of  that  room,  while 
the  clock  in  a  distant  steeple  called  out  the  hours  of 
one,  two,  and  three,  he  was  recalling  the  scenes  of  the 
past  years,  which  seemed  trivial  at  the  time,  yet  now 
putting  them  together,  link  after  link,  they  made  a 
gigantic  chain  of  evidence,  forcing  him  to  conclusions 
which  were  torturing  to  his  finer  nature,  and  hastily 
springing  to  his  feet  and  pacing  the  floor  he  said,  in 
almost  angry  agony,  "  Ned  Baldwin,  you  have  been  a 
blind  old  fool — yes,  a  blind  old  fool ! " 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 


PREDICTIONS  VERIFIED. 

The  two  or  three  weeks  following  Doctor  Bien's  visit, 
found  Minnie  gradually  regaining  her  nerve  power  and 
sprightliness,  notwithstanding  she  was  still  working  in 
a  quiet  way  to  get  trace  of  the  child,  sometimes  feeling 
quite  hopeful  and  then  again  despairing.  Meanwhile, 
Mr.  Baldwin  had  convinced  her  that  it  was  a  duty  which 
she  owed  to  him  to  make  a  full  explanation  of  the  whole 
matter.  When  she  had  confessed  all,  and  asked  his 
pardon,  his  only  words  were: 

"  My  little  chick  has  no  need  to  ask  pardon;  she  is 
not  in  the  least  censurable." 

What  he  thought  as  he  turned  away  with  a  gray  pallor 
upon  his  face,  she  never  knew,  but  she  was  not  surprised 
at  being  hastily  summoned  to  the  library  that  evening. 

It  is  a  slight  shock  of  paralysis,"  said  Doctor  Bien 
to  Minnie,  with  indications  of  a  return,  which  may 
prove  fatal,  and  Mrs.  Baldwin  must  be  apprised  of  his 
illness  immediately." 

By  the  time  Mrs.  Baldwin  arrived,  her  husband  had 
rallied  somewhat,  and  did  not  appear  to  her  as  being 
dangerously  ill,  consequently  she  was  not  in  a  very  amia- 
ble mood,  and.  accosting  Minnie,  she  said: 

There  is  nothing  alarming  about  this  case.  Why 
did  you  send  for  me?  You  have  spoiled  my  pleasure  for 
the  summer,  afe  well  as  preventing  tlie  recovery  of  my 

217 


218  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

health,  which  never  can  be,  except  I  leave  the  city;  and 
you  have  no  idea  what  a  shock  that  message  was  to  '  my 
poor,  weak  nerves; '  but  then,"  she  added,  as  she  turned 
away,  "  I  suppose  it  makes  but  little  difference,  as  it's 
only  me^ 

Two  days  later  witnessed  the  arrival  of  Mr.  and  Mrs, 
Merrill.  Minnie  scarcely  knew  how  to  express  her 
delight;  while  Mr.  Baldwin  made  vain  attempts  to  express 
his  joy  in  words,  as,  from  the  nature  of  his  disease,  his 
speech  was  somewhat  impaired.  Mrs.  Baldwin  greeted 
them  with  well-feigned  cordiality.  Mrs.  Merrill  had 
been  for  some  time  too  much  indisposed  to  undertake  the 
trip,  but,  on  being  notified  of  her  brother's  illness,  has- 
tened to  him,  and  consequent  upon  the  journey,  taken  in 
her  feeble  state  of  health,  she  was  very  weary  when  she 
arrived,  and  did  not  refuse  tasting  from  the  tempting 
glass  of  wine  furnished  by  Mrs.  Baldwin,  who,  after  fill- 
ing a  glass  for  Mr.  Merrill,  partook  quite  freely  of  it  her- 
self, giving  as  an  excuse,-  her  ''poor,  weak  nerves." 
McClellan,  who  usually  had  charge  of  the  wine  cellar, 
being  absent,  Janet  was  sent,  with  instructions  to  bring 
a  certain  favorite  kind.  Minnie  having  left  them  for  a 
short  time  in  order  to  see  that  her  parents'  room  was 
properly  arranged,  upon  her  return  found  the  entire 
company  very  ill,  and  in  such  distress  as  to  cause  her 
great  alarm.  She  immediately  had  Doctors  Bien  and 
Hamilton  summoned  (the  latter  having  returned  from  Sar- 
atoga with  Mrs.  Baldwin,  "  fearing  she  might  be  ill  on  the 
journey  ").  Upon  their  arrival,  each  in  turn  pronounced 
it  a  case  of  poisoning,  and,  upon  inquiry,  found  that  all 
three  had  partaken  of  the  wine,  whereupon  an  examina- 
tion proved  that  it  contained  a  poisonous  drug.  Suspi- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  219 

cioii  at  once  rested  upon  Janet,  and  before  morning  the 
frightened  girl  was  placed  under  arrest.  The  sick  ones 
were  immediately  taken  to  rooms  on  the  second  floor, 
where  they  could  be  cared  for  with  less  annoyance  to  Mr. 
Baldwin,  who  was  occupying  a  room  below,  and  the 
entire  night  was  one  of  intense  excitement,  doctors  and 
officials  hurrying  from  room  to  room,  the  latter  looking 
up  evidence  of  guilt.  Mrs.  Baldwin  averred,  in  her 
almost  dying  condition,  that  it  could  be  no  other  than 
J anet,  saying,  she  was  the  only  one  wlio  had  access  to  it, 
as  she  had  kept  the  keys  to  the  cellar  during  the  absence 
of  McClellan."  Minnie,  pale  with  anxiety,  yet  calm  and 
self-possessed,  passed  the  entire  night  in  going  from 
room  to  room,  ministering  to  the  comfort  first  of  one 
and  then  the  other,  not  forgetting  to  run  down  and  look 
in  upon  Uncle  Ned  very  often;  but  finding  that  he  slept, 
she  did  not  disturb  him  by  inquiring  after  his  own  wel- 
fare, or  to  communicate  tidings  of  the  others.  Upon 
entering,  just  as  the  gray  light  of  the  morning  was  creep-- 
ing  in  through  the  heavily-draped  windows,  there  came 
to  her  a  chill  foreboding  that  all  was  not  right,  and  there 
was  nothing  to  indicate  but  what  he  had  lain  in  that  same 
position  all  night  long,  and  cautiously  drawing  back  the 
curtains  the  gray  morning  light  fell  upon  the  cold,  dead 
face  of  Ned  Baldwin. 

Minnie  stood  for  a  moment  amid  this  strange  and 
dreadful  presence  with  a  feeling  of  awe,  and  with  a 
benumbed  sense  of  the  reality  that  she  was  alone  with  the 
dead,  and  with  a  strength  of  will  not  born  of  earth,  sub- 
dued all  rising  emotions,  from  an  intuitive  knowledge 
of  the  dire  effects  which  the  sudden  alarm  would  cause 
upon  the  almost-dying  ones.    Folding  back  the  curtains, 


220  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

that  the  rays  of  the  coming  day,  with  its  silver  and  gray 
fringes  just  tinging  the  eastern  horizon,  might  relieve 
the  darkness  and  chill  of  the  scene,  she  approached  the 
bed,  laid  her  hand  upon  his  cold  forehead,  and  then  there 
came  to  her,  in  all  its  fullness,  the  knowledge  that  she 
really  was  in  the  awful  presence  of  death.  Only  for  a 
moment  did  she  shrink  back  appalled — it  was  Uncle  Ned, 
with  a  sweet,  restful  smile  upon  his  face — Uncle  Ned, 
whom  she  had  learned  to  love  more  dearly  than  ever 
since  she  had  been  his  constant  nurse  and  companion.  It 
was  she  alone  who  could  understand  his  inarticulate 
sounds  and  feebly-made  signs,  but  now  he  was  gone, 
never  more  to  h>ok  up  to  her  with  the  smile  of  tlumks 
he  could  not  speak,  and  when  she  fully  realized  this,  she 
cried  out  in  her  anguish,  while  caressing  him  tenderly, 
"  Oh,  Uncle  Ned,  do  speak  to  me  once  more;  do  tell  me 
that  I  am  forgiven  for  all  that  I  may  have  done  to  cause 
you  sorrow.  Oh,  tell  me  that  you  are  not  gone  from  us 
forever;"  and  casting  herself  upon  her  knees  by  the  bed- 
side, amid  her  tears  of  grief,  there  went  up  from  that 
pure,  young  heart  the  prayer  for  guidance  and  strength 
which  found  access  to  the  Father's  ear,  and  when  she 
arose  with  true  resignation,  she  began  pushing  back  his 
silvery  locks,  and  meditating  upon  the  past,  the  present, 
and  trying  to  solve  the  future,  until  Nature,  weary  and 
worn  by  nights  of  watching,  and  the  excitement  and 
.  anxiety  of  the  one  just  past,  gave  way  and  involuntarily 
her  head  sank  to  the  pillow. 

When  Doctor  Bien  came  into  the  room  two  hours 
later  to  look  upon  his  patient  before  leaving  for  an  hour's 
rest,  he  was  almost  paralyzed  at  the  sight  which  met  his 
gaze — Mr.  Baldwin  straightened  out  with  his  pale,  dead 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


221 


face  half  hidden  by  Minnie's  no  less  white  one,  which 
rested  upon  the  same  pillow,  with  her  cheek  pressed  close 
to  his,  while  she  clasped  one  of  his  cold  hands,  as  if  to 
warm  it  into  life  again,  and  the  bright,  warm  rays  of  thart 
June  morning  sun,  falling  alike  upon  the  face  of  one 
whose  sleep  should  know  no  earthly  waking,  and  the  one 
whose  tear-stained  cheek  told  that  she  was  only  away  in 
the  green  meadows  of  rest-land,  and  would  return  again 
to  take  up  life's  burdens  and  go  on. 

The  library  had  been  closed  on  the  first  evening  of 
Mr.  Baldwin's  illness,  as  it  was  thought  best  not  to  dis- 
turb the  papers  which  he  liad  left  lying  upon  the  table 
and  open  desk,  but  now  it  seemed  to  be  the  most  fitting 
place  to  lay  his  lifeless  remains,  before  taking  them  to 
Greenwood  for  their  last,  long  rest.  In  arranging  it  for 
that  purpose,  Minnie  discovered  upon  the  table  where 
he  was  sitting  when  taken  ill,  an  open  letter  dated  at 
Paris,  and,  turning  it  over,  she  saw  these  words  only: 
"  I  am  yours,  in  deep  affliction,  E.  J.  Overton,"  and,  won- 
dering what  it  could  be  that  caused  Mr.  Overton's  deep 
affliction,  she  hastened  to  Doctor  Bien,  who  told  her  that 
it  was  proper  for  her  to  read  it,  as  it  was  a  family  letter, 
as  she  was  the  only  one  at  the  time  capable  of  doing  so, 
and  it  was,  doubtless,  of  importance. 

"  Nellie  is  dead,"  said  she,  after  reading  a  few  lines. 

Died  after  but  three  days'  illness — died  in  a  strange 
land,  among  strangers.  Poor,  dear  Nellie.  Dear  Uncle 
Ned,"  she  said,  while  her  tears  came  fast,  "  that  is  what 
he  was  trying  to  tell  us,  and  we  could  not  understand 
it." 

Yes,"  said  Doctor  Bien, that  was  the  cause  of  his 
fiudden  illness.  He  had  not  been  well  for  some  time.  I 


?<22  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

knew  that  by  the  gray,  white  look  he  had,  but  this  sad 
news  was  the  caase  of  its  culminating  just  as  it  did, 
and,"  he  continued,  "  Mrs.  Baldwin  is  in  no  condition 
now  to  bear  this  doubly  sad  news.  We  have  decided 
that  it  was  not  advisable  to  inform  her  of  her  husband's 
death.  What  a  volume  of  trouble  the  poor  woman  is 
having.  Doctor  Hamilton  and  myself  think,  after  talk- 
ing the  matter  over,  that  the  better  way  to  do  will  be  to 
have  Mr.  Baldwin's  body  placed  in  a  vault,  with  as  little 
ceremony  as  possible,  until  they  are  all  sufficiently 
recovered  to  have  the  funeral  services." 

"  Then,  Doctor,  you  think  they  will  recover,  do  you? " 
said  Minnie,  a  bright  light  coming  into  her  face. 

^'  Yes,  without  doubt,"  responded  the  Doctor.  ^'The 
worst  is  past,  but  it  will  be  some  days  yet  before  they 
will  be  able  to  bear  the  news." 

Under  the  care  of  Doctor  Bien  and  Minnie,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Merrill  were  convalescing  nicely,  as  also  was  Mrs. 
Baldwin,  who  received  the  devoted  attention  of  Doctor 
Hamilton,  he  knowing  best  how  to  treat  her  peculiar 
nervous  temperament. 

Mrs.  Baldwin  bore  the  news  of  her  husband's  death 
with  a  calmness  perfectly  wonderful,  and  with  true 
Christian  fortitude,  bowed  beneath  the  chastening  rod, 
saying:  "  The  Lord's  will,  not  mine,  be  done." 

But  when,  a  few  days  later,  she  w^as  apprised  of  Nel- 
lie's sudden  death,  the  deep  fountains  of  a  mother's  love 
was  stirred  beyond  control,  and  the  scene  which  followed 
baffled  description.  There  was  no  balm  in  Gilead  to 
heal  that  wound.  "  God  had  not  ordered  that,  and  it 
was  cruel  in  him  to  permit  it." 

''^  I  wonder,"  soliloquized  Doctor  Bien,  as  he  drove 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


223 


slowly  homeward,  after  having  witnessed  her  frantic 
grief,  "  if,  in  this  dark  hour,  she  has  thought  it  possible 
for  retribution  to  overtake  one  in  their  wicked  flight 
across  from  one  shore  of  time  to  the  other,  beyond  which 
is  the  boundless  ocean  of  eternity,  and  if  once  launched 
upon  its  dark,  turbid  waters  of  remorse,  it  may  be  ages 
ere  its  rolling,  upheaving  tides  will  cease  to  lash  in  their 
mad  fury,  or  their  almost  insatiable  thirst  for  vengeance 
be  sated.  God  be  merciful,  and  grant  her  an  awakening 
ere  she  reaches  that  shore,"  saying  which,  he  tossed  his 
lines  to  the  boy  in  waiting,  and  went  into  his  lonely 
home  to  seek  his  much-needed  rest. 

It  was  truly  a  pitiable  sight  to  see  Mrs.  Baldwin  in 
her  agony,  and  her  heart-rending  moans  of  all  alone,'' 
brought  fresh  tears  to  Minnie's  eyes,  and  revived  with 
intensity  the  recollections  of  little  Nellie,  who,  over  her 
mother's  coflSn,  had  repeated  the  words  which  were  now 
being  re-echoed  in  her  ear. 

Time,  the  great  healer  of  sorrow,  came  with  its  balm 
to  Mrs.  Baldwin's  heart,  and  a  few  weeks  later,  when  the 
remains  of  her  husband  were  interred,  the  servants  were 
discharged  and  the  house  olosed  for  an  indefinite  length 
of  time.  She  accompanied  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merrill  and 
Minnie  on  an  extensive  tour  through  the  New  England 
States;  Doctor  Hamilton  also  accompanying  them. 

Janet  had  been  acquitted  without  a  taint  of  dishonor 
clinging  to  her  hitherto  unsullied  character,  McClellan 
having  returned  in  time  to  witness  in  her  favor,  stating 
that  the  bottle  of  wine  was  the  same  which  Mrs.  Bald- 
win had  requested  him  to  destroy.  With  this  Mrs. 
Baldwin  suddenly  recalled  a  mistake  she  had  made  in 
putting  some  liquid,  which  the  doctor  had  ordered  takea 


224  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

in  wine,  and  after  having  turned  it  in  she  discovered 
that  the  bottle  was  labeled  "  poison,"  and  had  ordered 
it  thrown  out  without  giving  her  reasons  for  so  doing, 
supposing  she  would  be  obeyed. 

"  I  shall  want  you  when  I  return,"  Mrs.  Baldwin 
whispered  to  Janet  as  she  passed  through  the  hall  on 
her  way  out  for  her  ^'  vacation  ; "  "  remember,  and  make 
no  other  engagement,  for  I  cannot  live  without  yoii." 

''You  think  a  great  deal  of  that  girl,  do  you  not?" 
said  Mrs.  Merrill,  after  Janet  had  passed  out. 

"  Well,  yes;  I  suppose  I  do  in  a  kind  of  a  way.  She 
knows  just  enough  to  do  what  one  wants  to  have  her, 
and  that  is  enough  in  a  servant." 

Reader,  we  are  somewhat  impresssed  with  the  idea 
that  you  will  wish  to  know  more  of  Doctor  Hamilton. 
Doubtless  you  have  already  formed  a  correct  opinion  of 
the  man's  character,  and  we  need  only  add  that  he  was 
of  that  peculiar  style  of  men  whose  fascinations  are  irre- 
sistible to  silly,  unstable-minded  women,  of  whom  society 
boasts  not  a  few.  It  was  said  of  him,  that  in  early  life  he 
was  married  to  a  beautiful  and  highly -accomplished 
lady,  and  soon  after,  in  his  absence,  while  suffering  from 
.  a  severe  pain  in  the  head,  she  inhaled  too  great  a  quan- 
tity of  chloroform,  and  upon  his  return  he  found  his 
fair  young  bride  lifeless  and  alone.  Remaining  unmar- 
ried, he  sought  a  home  in  a  distant  city,  and  whether 
contemplating  marrriage  with  Mrs.  Baldwin  after  the 
death  of  her  husband  we  cannot  say.  Some,  however, 
were  of  the  opinion  that  he  might  have  contracted 
largely  in  that  direction  with  the  ''Baldwin  estate"  had 
he  not,  soon  after  his  return  to  the  city,  learned  by 
rauioro  that  the  estate  was  insolvent.    He  subsequently 


A  STORY  OP  REAL  LIFE. 


235 


met  with  his  death  in  one  of  Ohio's  most  oeautiful 
cities,  by  a  pistol-shot  from  the  hands  of  one  taking  this 
method  to  protect  his  own  rights,  as  also  the  good  name 
of  his  misguided  wife.  Some  who  worshipped  at  his 
shrine  were  gifted  with  genius,  and  pathetic  poems  were 
dedicated  to  his  memory,  and  many  spoke  of  him  as  an 
innocent  prey  upon  which  the  "green-eyed  monster"  had 
feasted.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  lie  was  overtaken  in  his 
flight  across  the  continent  of  time. 

When  the  autumn  leaves  were  putting  on  their  crim- 
son and  gold,  the  weary  travelers  returned  to  the  city. 
There  was,  however,  an  addition  to  their  number,  they 
having  met  with  Mr.  Bradley,  who  on  the  second  day  of 
his  journey  through  the  New  England  States  on  busi- 
ness pertaining  to  the  mining  interests  of  California, 
was  met  by  an  old  schoolmate  who  insisted  upon  his 
spending  some  time  with  him  after  his  business  was 
transacted,  and  by  chance  our  sorrow-stricken  company 
fell  in  with  him  a  short  time  before  their  return.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Merrill,  being  well  pleased  with  the  young 
man,  upon  parting  with  him  offered  no  objections  to  a 
more  intimate  acquaintance. 

All  through  those  long  weeks  Minnie  had  not  been 
idle  in  her  search  for  the  lost  child,  but  as  no  definite 
trace  of  her  had  been  found,  hope  was  giving  gradually 
away  to  despair,  and  when  her  parents  proposed  return- 
ing home  she  said  : 

"Yes,  I  shall  be  glad  to  go;  and  perhaps  I  shall  be 
just  as  near  her  there  as  I  am  here." 

As  their  baggage  was  being  taken  out,  Mrs.  Merrill 
said  i 


226 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


"  "What  are  you  taking  that  little  old-fashioned  trunk 
for?" 

"  That  is  Nellie's,"  said  Minnie,  "  and  I  cannot  leave 
it." 

"Have  you  her  clothing  in  there?"  continued  Mrs 
Merrill. 

"No,"  replied  Minnie,  "I  have  that  in  my  own 
trunk.  I  have  the  key  to  this  one,  but  have  never  yet 
opened  it,  as  Jane  Coil  said  there  was  nothing  in  it 
needing  much  attention,  principally  keepsakes  for  Nellie 
from  her  mother.  You  do  not  object  to  my  taking  it,  _ 
do  you?  It  is  very  dear  to  me,  and  then  when  I  find 
Nellie  I  shall  want  it  for  her." 

She  spoke  of  finding  her  with  all  the  assurance  that 
she  should  do  so  sometime,  as  if  the  certainty  of  it  were 
engraven  upon  the  heavens. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 


THE  NIGHT  CHASE. 

One  morning  near  tlie  close  of  the  month  of  June, 
just  as  the  sun  was  shedding  his  farewell  beams  over 
Pennsylvania  hilltops,  an  old-fashioned  covered  carriage, 
drawn  by  a  single  horse,  came  out  from  the  grounds  of 
a  neat  little  cottage,  situated  midway  on  the  road  between 
Broadtop  village  and  Buchannan's  Cross-Roads,  taking 
tlie  direction  toward  the  cross-roads  at  rather  a  brisk 
speed.  At  the  same  time  an  open  spring-wagon,  in 
which  was  seated  an  elderly  couple,  came  leisurely  down 
the  hill,  the  horse  evidently  in  no  more  haste  to  reach 
home  than  were  Jonathan  and  Amanda  Geddiz,  for  it 
was  none  other  than  these  worthies  on  their  way  home 
from  their  weekly  trip  to  the  village  to  dispose  of  their 
butter  and  eggs  by  taking  in  exchange  their  week's  sup- 
ply of  groceries. 

"  Susan,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz  to  her  son's  wife,  as  she 
went  into  the  house  with  her  arms  piled  full  of  packa- 
ges of  tea,  coffee,  sugar,  etc.,  "  who  was  thatdruv  out  of 
the  gate,  jist  afore  we  druv  in?  " 

''I  didn't  ask  him  his  name,"  said  Susan,  as  she  con- 
tinued scalding  out  her  milk  crocks.  "  He  asked  to  stay 
all  night,  and  had  his  horse  put  out,  and  I  had  given 
him  his  supper,  but  I  guess  you  scared  him  out,  for  he 
was  looking  at  the  pictures  on  the  table  there,  and  when 
he  came  to  yours,  he  asked  me  who  it  was,  and,  when  I 
told  him,  he  asked  where  you  lived,  and  I  told  him  that 


228  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

you  lived  here,  and  had  gone  to  town,  but  would  be  back 
pretty  soon,  and  that  you  could  entertain  him  better 
then  I  could,  as  you  knew  everybody  and  their  history 
for  ten  miles  around ;  but,  just  then  he  concluded  to  go  a 
little  farthei*,  and  not  a  moment  before  he  had  asked  me 
to  put  his  little  girl  to  bed,  said  she  was  very  tired  as 
they  had  come  a  long  ways." 

"  A  little  girl,  did  you  say?  "  fairly  shouted  Mrs.  Ged- 
diz.    "  What  did  he  look  like?    Tell  me,  quick!" 

Susan  smiled  at  the  old  lady's  excited  manner,  and 
said  : 

Oh,  I  don't  know  much  how  he  did  look;  was  a  real 
ugly  looking  man,  with  great,  long  eyebrows.'^ 

''And  the  little  girl?  Did  she  look  like  this?"  said 
Mrs.  Geddiz,  growing  still  more  excited,  as  she  drew  from 
her  deep  pocket  a  small  case  containing  a  picture  of  a 
little  girl. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  she  did,"  said  Susan,  "but  I  was  busy 
and  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  her." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  laugh,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  as  she  saw 
Susan  smile  as  she  resumed  her  work.  "  It's  no  laugh- 
ing matter,  and  I'll  j ust  prove  that  to  you  before  I  sleep ;  " 
and,  hastening  to  the  door,  she  called  lustily  out:  "Jon- 
athan Geddiz,  you  jist  tackle  old  ISTell,  and  hitch  her  to 
the  deer-burn  as  quick  as  you  e^^er  did  in  your  life,  and 
no  stopping  to  ask  questions  either.  There  is  no  time 
to  stop  for  dallying,  now,"  and  she  went  bustling tfrom 
room  to  room  as  if  scarce  knowing  what  to  do. 

After  putting  some  lunch  into  a  basket,  she  hurried 
out,  calling  back  to  Susan: 

"  It  may  be  late  when  we  git  back,  and  we  may  not  be 
alone  either,  for  I  am  going  to  git  that  child  from  that 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE 


229 


man  if  it  is  among  the  possibles.  He  lias  stolen  it,  and 
I  know  he  has.'* 

By  this  time  she  was  seated  in  the  wagon  with  a  long 
black  whip  in  her  hand,  urging  with  all  her  powers  of 
speech  that  Jonathan  make  haste  to  start. 

"  What,  mother! "  said  Jonathan,  as  he  took  his  seat 
beside  her,  "  you  are  not  going  to  take  that  great  ox- 
gad,  are  you?" 

Of  course  I  am,  and  I  expect  to  have  more  kinds  of 
use  for  it  than  one,  leastwise  I'm  going  to  be  prepared 
for  it.  Jist  see  here,  too,"  she  said,  as  she  drew  from 
her  pocket  'Lijah's  pistol;  "and  now  you  jist  drive  for 
your  life,"  and  she  began  touching  up  old  Nell  with  the 
"ox-gad." 

"  Well,  really,"  said  the  patient  Jonathan,  "  I  should 
think  that  you  had  started  out  on  the  war-path.  Come, 
ain't  you  'most  ready  to  explain  matters,  Mandy?" 
Whereupon  she  told  him  all  about  it,  concluding  with: 
"  that  picture  and  paper  telling  about  it,  came  jist  in  the 
nick  of  time,  didn't  it.  Father?  And  I  jist  know  that 
it  is  that  McClellan,  for  it  looked  like  his  old  '  carryall,' 
and  Susan  said  he  had  long  eyebrows.  I  alius  knowed 
he  was  a  kidnapper  and  every  other  thing  that  was  bad. 
I  tell  you,  Jonathan  Geddiz,  your  wife  Mandy  is  no  fool 
—  she  can  see  through  a  milestone,  or  two  of  them  for 
that  matter,  and  I  saw  pretty  well  through  him  and 
Cristine  Baldwin  both  last  winter;  but  I  concluded  to 
let  bygones  be  bygones,  as  the  preachers  say." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Jonathan,  between  a  groan  and  a  sigh, 
"  God's  ways  are  very  mysterious,  and  not  our  ways,  and 
we  will  just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is,  I  'spose." 

By  this  time  they  were  within  a  half-mile  of  Buchan- 


230  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

nan^s  Cross  Eoads,  and  driving  '^Old  Nell "  at  her  utmost 
speed.  In  fact,  as  Mrs.  Geddiz  said,  tlie  old  nag  seemed 
to  enjoy  it,  and  every  little  while  she  would  hump  up 
her  back  and  give  an  extra  spring  forward.  They  soon 
espied  in  the  distance  a  carriage,  which  they  felt  sure 
must  be  the  one  containing  the  stolen  child,  at  sight  of 
which  Mrs.  Geddiz  grew  almost  wild  with  excitement, 
and  seizing  the  lines  from  her  husband's  hands  said,  ''I 
think  I  can  get  more  speed  out  of  old  Nell  than  you 
can;"  but  old  Nell  instantly  slackened  her  pace,  and 
with  all  the  jerking  of  the  lines  and  clucking  up,  with 
"  Git  up,  there,"  old  Nell  failed  to  "  git  up." 

^^I  shall  just  git  out  and  run  myself,"  said  the  old 
lady,  her  patience  fairly  exhausted. 

"  O,  no,  you  won't.  Mother;  just  give  me  the  lines 
again,"  saying  which  Mr.  Geddiz  took  them,  and  giving 
a  peculiar  little  whistle  off  sprang  old  Nell  as  if  pos- 
sessed of  new  life. 

"  O  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  why  didn't  we  think 
to  hitch  old  Tom  to  the  back  of  the  deer-burn,  and  when 
Nell  gives  out  we  could  take  him,  and  so  change  about 
and  rest  both,"  whereupon  Mr.  Geddiz  gave  a  little 
chuckling  laugh,  w^hich  might  have  required  some 
explanation  had  they  not,  just  at  that  moment,  lost 
sight  of  the  carriage  they  were  pursuing,  it  having  gone 
down  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill  which  they  were 
ascending. 

"  Now,  J onathan  Geddiz,"  said  the  restless  old  lady, 
"  when  we  get  to  the  top  of  this  hill  I  want  you  to  go 
lickity  brindle  till  we  reach  the  bottom  of  it,  and  then 
we  have  five  miles  of  smooth  valley  road,  and  the  moon 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


231 


is  rising,  and  if  we  don't  catch  that  wicked  thief  I  should 
like  to  know  the  reason." 

They  soon  reached  the  summit  of  the  long,  steep  hill, 
and  could  plainly  see,  by  the  pale  rays  of  the  moon,  the 
carriage  just  striking  off  on  the  smooth  valley  road. 

"  Now,  Nell,  it  is  down  grade.  Just  pnt  in  your  best 
and  we  can  soon  overtake  that  sneaking  coward,  for  he 
doesn't  know  that  'Manda  Geddiz  is  on  his  trail,  so  he 
will  not  go  out  of  a  decent  trot." 

Just  as  the  old  lady  uttered  these  words,  accompany- 
ing them  with  a  not  very  gentle  touch  of  the  black  whip 
upon  Nell's  side,  whereupon  she  gave  one  of  her  antic 
little  springs,  bounding  forward  she  stumbled  and  fell, 
turning  herself  almost  out  of  the  harness,  and  in  her 
attempts  to  get  up  pressed  upon  one  of  the  thills,  break- 
ing it  almost  entirely  olf.  In  the  sudden  jerk  and 
stopping  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Geddiz  were  landed  still  farther 
down  the  hill.  The  hill  being  quite  steep,  Mrs.  Geddiz 
found  that  in  her  attempts  to  get  her  chul)by  little  body 
erect  she  floundered  and  rolled  still  fai'ther  away,  seeing 
which,  Mr.  Geddiz,  who  had  regained  his  feet,  cried  out: 

"So  you've  concluded  to  run  on  ahead,  have  you. 
Mother?" 

This  was  a  little  too  much  for  the  old  lady,  and  her 
ire  bounded  in  a  moment,  and  she  replied  quite  tartly 
for  her: 

"  Jonathan  Geddiz,  you  are  as  cruel  as  cruel  can  be — 
to  stand  there  and  laugh  at  my  calamity,  and  that,  too, 
when  you  don't  know  but  I  am  dead — killed  outright  in 
a  noble  cause.  Well,  if  I  am,  she  said,"  as  she  came 
panting  up  to  his  side,  "  I  have  died  at  my  post,  and 


282  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

that's  more  than  everyone  can  say  who  died  ymrs  before  I 
did.'' 

Any  person  having  traveled  in  a  private  conveyance 
through  some  parts  of  Pennsylvania,  understands  that  one 
can  ride  a  whole  day  through  some  of  the  most  beauti- 
ful valleys  and  over  delightfully  picturesque  mountains, 
and  scarcely  know  that  it  was  inhabited,  save  for  the 
well-kept  fences,  and  fields  of  waving  grain  and  the 
"  cattle  grazing  on  a  thousand  hills,"  the  farmers  build- 
ing their  houses  in  the  locality  where  water  is  the  most 
readily  obtained,  reaching  the  main  road  by  a  lane,  the 
buildings  not  being  visible  to  the  traveler  save  here 
and  there  one  in  the  distance.  It  so  happened  that  this 
misfortune  to  our  worthy  couple  found  them  in  just 
such  a  locality.  Mr.  Geddiz,  after  making  several 
attempts  to  adjust  old  Nell's  harness,  turned  off  to  the 
roadside  and  seated  himself  on  a  plat  of  grass,  and 
taking  off  his  hat  groaned  as  if  in  distress.  Mrs.  Ged- 
diz, however,  paid  but  little  attention  to  this,  as  he  was 
easily  discouraged,  and  it  had  been  a  life-long  habit  with 
her  that  when  he  "dropped  the  lines"  to  take  them  up, 
and,  as  she  expressed  it,  "start  the  stone  rollin'  again." 
She  had  managed  to  procure  two  or  three  yards  of  list- 
ing, and  with  that  and  tw^o  flat  sticks,  she  soon  had  the 
broken  thill  firmly  bound  together,  and  with  some  twine 
from  her  lunch  basket  the  harness  was  soon  put  in 
order,  and  old  Nell  hitched  in  ready  for  a  start. 

"  Come,  Jonathan,  let's  be  off ;  'twill  be  no  easy  mat- 
ter to  make  up  this  lost  time;"  but  the  only  answer 
that  reached  Mrs.  Geddiz'  ear  w\as  a  moan,  and  then  it 
occurred  to  her  that  perhaps  he  might  be  seriously  hurt. 
She  hastened  to  his  side,  and  with  a  voice  full  of  sym- 


I  WONDKR  IF  ANY  OF  YOU  CAN  GU^SS  WHO  THIS  IS?  "    See  page  250. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


233 


pathy  inquired  if  he  was  in  pain,  and  upon  learning 
that  his  head  was  feeling  badly,  she  seemed  to  forget 
alike  her  horse  at  the  roadside  and  her  errand,  and  she 
said,  "  Oh,  my  dear  Jonathan,  if  you  die  from  this,  I 
never  can  forgive  myself  for  taking  you  away  from  your 
quiet,  peaceful  home  on  such  a  chase  a-s  this,"  and  the 
great  tears  ran  down  her  cheeks  as  she  caressed  him, 
which  seemed  to  be  tlie  needed  panacea,  for  in  a  few 
moments  he  said  in  quite  a  cheerful  way: 

"Don't  feel  bad.  Mother;  I'm  most  over  it — just  a 
sharp  pain  or  two.  I  guess  I  must  have  struck  on  a 
stone,  but  there  is  no  blood  shed  or  bones  broken,  so  I 
guess  it  will  not  amount  to  much.  But  hadn't  we  better 
give  up  the  chase  and  go  back  home?" 

"  O  no,  not  now  that  we  have  gone  so  far.  Never  give 
up,  is  my  motto,  and  I  'sposed  you'd  learned  that  years 
ago." 

Mrs.  Geddiz  spoke  this  in  her  usual  quick,  energetic 
way,  and  then  remembering  that  he  was  suffering,  she 
softened  almost  to  tenderness  and  said,  "  Not  unless  you 
feel  too  bad  to  go  on." 

"  No,"  said  he,  I  do  not  feel  too  bad;  but  somehow 
or  another  I  feel  kind  of  stupid  like,  and  would  just  as 
soon  lie  right  here  and  take  a  nap  as  to  go  either  way." 

"  Well,"  said  she,  a  new  idea  striking  her,  "  'spose 
you  do,  and  I'll  drive  on  and  get  the  child,  and  be  back 
by  the  time  you  wake  up.  Here,  take  this  piece  of  rag 
carpet  out  of  the  bottom  of  the  deer-burn,  and  spread  on 
the  grass  to  lie  on,  and  this  sheep-skin  to  cover  over 
you,  so  you  won't  take  cold." 

By  the  time  she  was  through  saying  this,  she  had 
him  nicely  tucked  up  in  the  sheep-skin^  and  a  moment 


284  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

later  was  whirling  dowrv  the  hill,  and  off  on  the  smooth 
valley  road.  It  was  some  time,  however,  before  she 
saw  anything  to  encourage  her  to  pursue  the  journey, 
but  at  length  she  espied  something  in  the  distance — a 
mere  speck,  it  seemed  at  first,  and  yet  it  was  sufficient 
to  inspire  her  with  new  life, — and  urging  old  Nell  for- 
ward, she  was  surprised  at  the  rapidity  with  which  she 
gained  upon  it,  and  did  not  discover  the  delusion  until 
she  came  almost  upon  a  night  traveler  coming  from  the 
opposite  direction.  When  she  discovered  her  mistake 
she  called  out  to  the  stranger,  and  asked  if  he  had  met 
anyone;  if  so  about  how  far  back.  Upon  being  told 
that  he  had  met  a  carriage  about  two  miles  back,  she 
sped  away  again,  and  in  a  very  short  time  saw  in  the 
distance  another  black  speck  which  seemed  to  be  mov- 
ing very  slowly,  if  at  all. 

There  now,''  said  she,  aloud,  "  his  beast  is  tired  most 
to  deth,  and  1  can  soon  come  up  to  him,  and  if  he 
makes  the  least  fuss  about  given'  up  the  child,  I  shall 
give  him  the  weight  of  this," —  shaking  up  the  big 
black  whip — "  but  I  hope  I  shall  not  be  compelled  to 
use  that  other  weepon." 

At  the  brisk  rate  she  was  going  it  was  not  long 
before  she  came  up  close  behind  the  carriage.  It  was 
then  that  Aunt  'Manda's  wits  were  out  and  her  heart 
began  to  fail  her — she  did  not  feel  so  brave  on  the  near 
approach  to  the  enemy  as  she  had  in  the  distance." 

"There,"  said  she,  as  she  espied  a  house  a  little 
further  on,  "right  fernenst  that  house  I  will  tackle  the 
gentleman,  and  then  if  I  need  help,  as  I  may,  seeing  as 
J onathan,  poor  man,  is  not  a  long,  I  can  call  the  folks  up." 

As  they  neared  the  farm-house,  the  carriage  in  front 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE, 


236 


began  to  turn  in  as  if  going  to  stop.  Aunt  'Manda  dis- 
covered a  glimmering  light  in  an  upper  window,  and 
she  continued  her  soliloquy: 

''Yes;  he  and  his  beast  are  both  clean  tuckered  out, 
and  he  is  going  to  try  to  stop  here  for  the  rest  of  the 
night." 

By  this  time  the  man  had  reined  up  to  a  post,  and 
had  alighted,  and  began  singing  in  a  clear  voice  which 
sounded  strangely  beautiful,  in  that  quiet  midnight 
hour: 

"  Be  it  ever  so  humble  there  is  no  place  like  home." 

''There!  now's  my  time,"  said  the  old  lady  as  she 
bounded  out  with  the  agility  of  youth;  and  with  the 
long  black  whip  swaying  over  her  shoulder,  she  marched 
up  to  the  man  as  he  was  tying  his  horse. 

"Well,  sir  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  suppose  you  thought 
you  had  got  out  of  the  reach  of  Aunt  'Manda,  didn't  you, 
McClellan  ?  but  you  see,  I'm  close  on  your  track;  but, 
sir,  all  that  I  want  of  you,  is  that  child,  and  if  you  give 
it  up  peaceably  I  shall  not  harm  you  a  particle." 

The  man,  although  greatly  surprised  at  the  first  sight 
of  the  woman  and  her  whip,  was  still  more  so,  when  she 
demanded  the  child.  He  however,  concluded  she  was 
a  lunatic  who  had  escaped  from  those  having  care  of 
her,  and  tried  to  quiet  her  by  telling  her  that  his  name 
was  not  McCellan,  and  that  he  did  not  know  what  child 
she  had  reference  to. 

At  this  Aunt  'Manda's  anger  began  to  kindle,  and  she 
said  fiercely  : 

"  This  whip,  and  this^  too,"  holding  up  the  pistol, 
"  shall  both  be  used  upon  you  if  you  refuse  me  that 
child." 


236  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

But  the  man  was  not  to  be  thus  easily  daunted,  so  he 
took  hold  of  her  hand  rather  gently  and  asked  her  to  be 
cool,  and  explain  herself,  adding,  "  I  am  not  the  man 
McClellan,  as  you  suppose.    This  is  my  home." 

But  Aunt  'Manda  was  inexorable,  and  twisting  her- 
self out  his  grasp  left  the  pistol  in  his  possession,  and 
running  up  to  the  carriage,  she  said  excitedly  : 

I  shall  have  this  child  at  all  hazards,"  and  seizing 
hold  of  what  she  supposed  to  be  the  child,  gave  a  vigor- 
ous jerk,  which  brought  from  her  shriek  after  shriek, 
until  the  night  air  fairly  rang  with  the  sound  of  wild 
terror,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  the  man  succeeded  in 
rescuing  her  from  the  jaws  of  his  enraged  terrier,  who 
did  not  relish  being  pulled  so  unceremoniously  from 
his  warm  bed  by  a  stranger. 

Poor  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  the  last  ray  of  hope  and  the 
sleeve  of  her  best  gown  both  so  suddenly  torn  from 
their  moorings,  felt  crest-fallen  enough,  and  she  tried  to 
endure  patiently  the  pain  of  her  lacerated  arm,  and 
explain  matters  so  as  to  make  amends  for  her  rashness. 
The  stranger  listened  to  her  long  story,  told  between 
her  nervous  little  sobs  caused  by  the  pain  in  her  arm, 
and  restlessly  stepping  about  from  one  place  to  another, 
as  if  in  fear  of  another  attack  from  the  dog,  which  stood 
with  glaring  eyes  close  to  its  master's  side,  and  ever  and 
anon  gave  vent  to  its  indignation  in  a  deep,  low  growl, 
and  was  only  kept  back  from  a  fresh  attack  by  the  gen- 
tle stroke  of  his  master's  hand  upon  his  head  and  the 
kindly  spoken. — There  now,  Brutus,  keep  still." 

When  she  had  concluded  her  explanation  the  stranger 
told  her  that  she  was  undoubtedly  misled  in  her  chase 
by  his  coming  on  to  the  road  from  the  right  at  the  cross- 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE. 


237 


roads,  and  as  he  did  so,  a  carriage  answering  her  descrip- 
tion came  down  on  the  main  road  and  turned  off  to  the 
left,  going  down  through  the  woods,  which  were  dark, 
as  the  moon  was  not  liigh  enough  to  light  up  the  road 
over  the  tree-tops. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  a  sigh,  I  shall  have 
that  man  yet  if  it  takes  me  a  whole  month,  for  'Manda 
Geddiz*  has  never  been  outwitted  yet,  and  she  is  not 
going  to  be  at  her  time  of  life.  But  I  must  be  going,, 
as  Father  will  think  I  am  going  to  make  an  all  night's 
job  of  it,"  at  the  same  time  reaching  for  her  pistol.  As 
the  man  handed  it  to  her,  he  remarked: 

"  I  see  this  weapon  is  perfectly  harmless,  as  there  is 
no  load  in  it,"  to  which  Mrs.  Geddiz  replied  with  a 
shrug  of  her  broad  shoulders  and  a  low,  good-natured 
laugh : 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  didn't  know  that  before  I  dare 
take  hold  of  it;  but  it  looks  skeery,  all  the  same,  and 
that  was  all  I  took  it  for.  I  wouldn't  dare  shoot  if  I 
could.  No,  sir,  'Manda  Geddiz  never  intended  to  take 
the  life  of  a  single  human  being,"  and  turning  toward 
the  old  deer-barn  she  said,  "  Well,  I  7nust  be  goin'." 

"  Don't  go  until  you  come  into  the  house  and  have 
your  arm  bound  up  and  a  cup  of  tea,  which  I  have 
already  steeping  for  husband,"  said  a  sweet  little  voice 
just  inside  the  gate. 

The  lady  in  w^aiting  for  the  return  of  her  husband  had 
been  attracted  by  the  wild  shrieks  of  the  woman,  and 
hastened  out,  and  without  saying  a  word  had  been  an 
attentive  listener  to  the  conversation. 

Mrs.  Geddiz  accepted  tlie  proffered  bandage  for  h^r 
arm,  but  for  once  in  her  life  declined  the  cup  of  tea,  and 


238  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

turning  old  Nell  .upon  tlie  back  track,  after  what 
seemed  to  her  an  interminable  length  of  time  she  found 
herself  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  upon  the  summit  of  which 
she  had  left  her  discouraged  ^and  afflicted  husband.  By 
this  time  the  moon  was  overcast  by  dark,  threatening 
clouds,  and  it  was  in  vain  she  peered  through  the  dark- 
ness to  find  the  sleeper,  and  vainer  still  all  attempts  to 
bring  a  response  from  him  as  she  called  out: 

Father!  Father!  Jonathan,  where  are  you?"  and 
then,  after  waiting  a  moment,  in  a  half- vexed  tone  she 
said:  Now,  Jonathan  Geddiz,  do  stop  foolin'  so.  I 
have  enough  to  put  up  with  without  your  tormenting 
me,"  and  then  raising  her  voice  to  a  higher  key,  "  Jona- 
than, I  say!  Why  don't  you  speak?  If  you  don't,  I 
shall  go  on  without  you,  and  then  you'll  have  a  good 
time  walkin'  eight  or  ten  miles.  I  guess  that  '11  take 
the  pranks  out  of  you,  and  you  '11  wish  you'd  answered 
me,"  and  then  she  waited,  but  still  no  answer  came,  and 
then  in  the  stillness  of  deep  silence,  and  in  the  dark- 
ness of  that  hour  there  came  to  her  heart  a  chill  fore- 
boding, and  she  said  in  low  murmured  breathings, 
"  What  if  he  was  hurt  worse  than  we  thought  for  and 
has  died— died  here  on  the  roadside  alone.  Oh!  my 
God,  forbid! "  and  she  sprang  from  her  seat  and  began 
a  vigorous  search  by  feeling  along  the  grass  and  calling 
in  tones  filled  with  the  tenderness  of  soul  which  but  few 
possessed  more  of  than  this  strangely-combinated  being. 
At  last  the  heavy  black  clouds  which  had  overspread 
the  moon,  rifted  for  a  moment,  and  in  that  moment  of 
light  the  quick  eye  of  Mrs.  Geddiz  had  taken  in  the 
entire  grass  plat  for  rods  around  with  nothing  being 
revealed  to  her  anxious  gaze  except  the  piece  of  rag 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


239 


carpet  upon  which  her  husband  had  lain,  and  gathering 
it  up  she  started  homeward  with  the  conclusion  that  he 
had  grown  restless  and  had  taken  up  the  sheep-skm  and 
walked  on  toward  home,  and  that  she  would  soon  over- 
take him;  so  driving  slowly  along  and  whiling  the  time 
away  by  singing  in  a  low,  trilling  voice,  "Alas!  and  did 
my  Savior  bleed,"  and  "Am  I  a  soldier  of  the  Cross," 
and  many  other  popular  Methodist  hymns  of  that  day, 
for  Aunt  'Manda  was  a  Methodist  and  regarded  by  the 
church  and  neighbors  as  almost  a  saint,  which  we  have 
no  reason  to  doubt,  and  yet  withal  she  was  strangely 
and  intensely  human. 

As  for  Mr.  Geddiz,  as  the  sound  of  his  wife's  voice  and 
the  rattling  of  the  wheels  of  the  deer-burn  died  away  in 
the  distance,  he,  stunned  and  dizzy  from  his  fall,  far 
beyond  what  he  realized,  fell  into  a  stupor  or  light 
sleep,  from  which  he  did  not  awake  till  the  sound  of  the 
wheels  and  horse's  feet  of  the  traveler,  whom  Mrs. 
Geddiz  met  on  her  way  through  the  valley,  fell  upon  his 
ear.  They  were  rapidly  passing  him,  when  he,  think- 
ing it  was  his  wife,  and  that  she  had  forgotten  the  place 
where  she  had  left  him,  sprang  up  and  seizing  the 
sheep-skin,  started  down  the  road  in  hot  pursuit,  calling 
out  at  the  top  of  his  voice  for  "  Mother,"  to  stop.  At 
length  he  began  to  despair  of  making  her  hear,  or  being 
able  to  overtake  her,  and  weary  and  faint,  he  crawled 
upon  the  gras^  by  the  roadside,  and  was  soon  lost  to  his 
loneliness  and  pain. 

Long  before  Mrs.  Geddiz  reached  home  the  threaten- 
ing clouds  burst,  and  a  torrent  of  rain  came  dashing 
upon  her  in  her  unprotected  condition ;  but  she  consoled 


240  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

herself  with  the  thought  that  Mr.  Geddiz  had  reached 
home  in  safety. 

"  Perhaps,"  she  said  aloud,  "  he  got  a  ride  with  the 
man  I  met." 

As  she  drove  into  the  yard  and  saw  that  the  lights 
were  burning  in  the  house,  she  was  confirmed  in 
her  belief;  but  when  her  son  'Lijah  came  out  with  the 
lantern  to  take  the  horse,  he  inquired  eagerly  where  his 
father  was,  to  which  the  old  lady  replied,  as  she  crawled 
slowly  out,  trying  to  shield  her  lame  arm,  which  was 
growing  very  painful: 

^^Now,  'Lijah,  you  stop  your  foolin'.  I  have  all  I 
can  bear,  without  any  of  your  nonsense.  You  know 
he's  in  the  house,  and  so  do  I." 

"  No,  indeed.  Mother,  he  is  not  here!  Where  did 
you  leave  him  ? " 

She  either  did  not,  or  feigned  not  to  hear  him,  think- 
ing they  were  trying  to  get  a  joke  upon  her,  and  so  she 
hurried  into  the  house  to  find  Susan  in  the  kitchen  with 
the  table  set  and  coflFee  boiling,  who  looking  up  from 
turning  the  nice  slices  of  ham  she  was  broiling,  said  : 

"  You  did  very  nearly  make  out  a  night's  job  of  it. 
Did  you  get  the  man  and  child?" 

'^No;"  and  Mrs.  Geddiz's  voice  had  a  ringing,  snap- 
ping  sound  that  Susan  had  never  heard  before,  and  after 
walking  around  as  if  in  search  of  something  she  did  not 
find  she  said,  in  a  somewhat  modified  tone:  ^'Susan, 
jist  have  a  little  patience  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about 
it;  "  and  then  she  asked,  '^How  long  has  Father  been 
home.    I  suppose  he's  fast  asleep  by  this  time." 

'^Father!"  said  Susan,  in  surprise.  ^'Why,  he  has 
not  come  at  all,  unless  he  came  with  you," 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


241 


By  this  time  she  discovered  the  sleeveless  and  band- 
aged  arm  of  Mrs.  Geddiz,  and  began  pouring  forth  a 
volley  of  questions,  to  which  the  excited  woman  was 
wholly  oblivious,  and  when  'Lijah  returned  to  the  house 
he  found  her  almost  frantic. 

^'Oh,  'Lijah,"  she  said,  as  he  entered,  "do  not  wait  a 
single  moment;  but  tackle  Robin  or' Tom,  for  poor  old 
Nell  is  about  tuckered  out,  and  let  us  go  right  off  to 
find  your  Father.  Perhaps  he  is  dead — dead  and  alone 
by  the  roadside — and  we  must  not  lose  a  moment." 

But  'Lijah  persisted  in  saying  he  would  not  stir  a 
step  until  she  had  put  on  some  dry  clothing,  ar.d  drank 
a  cup  of  warm  coffee.  'Lijah  was  firm,  and  so  she 
yielded,  and  by  the  time  they  were  ready  to  start  the 
shower  was  over,  and  the  gray  dawn  of  the  coming 
morn  was  tinging  the  eastern  sky.  They  went  at  quite 
a  brisk  rate  for  the  first  few  miles,  not  expecting  to  find 
him  until  near  the  hill  top  where  she  had  left  him.  As 
they  began  ascending  the  hill,  the  sun  came  out  clear 
and  warm,  the  birds  were  chirping  and  flying  about  as 
if  commissioned  to  cheer  the  cast-down  spirits  of  that 
conscience-smitten  old  lady,  whose  eyes  were  riveted 
upon  a  light  speck  of  something  in  the  distance. 

"  'Lijah,"  she  said,  ^'doesn't  that  look  like  our  sheep- 
skin, on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  road,  'bout  half  way 
up  the  hill?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  young  man,  "whether  it 
looks  any  more  like  our  sheep-skin  than  it  does  like  any 
other  person's  sheep-skin,  or  a  sheep  inside  of  its  own 
skin,  or  it  may  be  a  pig,  or  a  cow,  but  I  do  see  some- 
thing." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  his  mother,  "  I  know  its  your  father, 


242  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

and  perhaps  he  is  dead,"  and  she  began  sobbing 
violently,  whereupon  her  son  sought  to  comfort  her, 
saying,  "  Mother,  I  always  thought  you  had  better  con- 
trol of  your  nerves  than  this.  Come  now,  don't  give 
up  in  this  unreasonable  way.  If  we  find  Father  sick 
you  will  need  all  the  strength  you  have  to  care  for  him;" 
and  he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  feeling  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  that  he  was  a  man,  and  his 
mother  the  child.  Hitherto  she  had  guided  and  con- 
trolled ev^erything  about  the  farm  and  house,  chiding 
and  approving  as  the  case  demanded,  and  what  Mother 
said  was  the  law  and  the  gospel  for  the  whole  house- 
hold. Yet  she  was  never  harsh,  but  kind  and  consider- 
ate of  the  feelings  of  all  with  whom  she  had  to  do,  and 
with  her  wonderful  tact  and  foresight  she  could  plan  for 
a  whole  regiment  of  work-hands,  so  that  not  a  moment's 
time  was  lost,  or  a  farthing  squandered. 

''Yes,  'Lijah,"  she  said,  "but  this  is  no  common 
thing.  /  brought  this  all  on  him,  but  I  was  doin'  my 
duty,  and  never  dreamt  that  it  would  turn  out  this 
way." 

By  this  time  they  had  got  near  enough  to  see  that 
it  was  a  person  lying  by  the  roadside.  As  they  reined 
up  close  to  where  he  lay,  the  sound  of  their  approach 
aroused  him,  and  raising  up  and  resting  upon  his  elbow 
he  gazed  at  them,  and  then  up  and  down  the  road  in  a 
bewildered  way.  The  old  lady  sprang  from  the  buggy, 
before  it  was  scarcely  stopped,  and  manifested  her  joy 
by  caressing  him  over  and  over  again,  calling  him  all 
the  endearing  names  in  her  vocabulary,  to  all  of  which 
he  was  perfectly  oblivious,  looking  around  and  at  them 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


248 


with  a  vacant  stare,  faintly  muttering  something  about 
the  horse  and  harness. 

"  It  is  concussion  of  the  brain,"  said  the  Doctor  who 
was  immediately  called  upon  their  arrival  home,  ^'caused 
by  the  striking  of  the  head  upon  the  hard  limestone  soil; 
but,"  he  added,  "  with  great  care  and  patience  he  may 
recover." 

For  weeks  following  this  McClellan  and  the  stolen 
child  were  scarcely  thought  of  by  Mrs.  Geddiz,  and 
through  many  long  weary  days  and  nights  of  faithful 
watching  the  great  heart  of  that  grand  but  eccentric 
woman  was  going  out  in  prayer  to  the  Father  of  all 
mercies  for  the  restoration  to  health  of  one  whose  life 
was  hanging,  as  it  were,  by  a  thread,  "  From  this,  O 
Lord,  from  this  restore  .him,  that  I  may  feel  that  he  did  - 
not  meet  his  death  at  my  hands."  She  was  one  of  the 
righteous  whose  prayers  prevail. 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 

THE  NEW  NEIGHBOR. 

There  were  twenty  of  the  women  living  within  a  range 
of  three  miles,  assembled  at  the  home  of  Mrs.  Barkins, 
a  widow  living  in  rather  pretentious  style,  midway 
between  the  home  of  Jonathan  Geddiz  and  Broadtop 
village.  The  occasion  of  this  assembly  was  a  joint 
sewing  society  between  the  Presbyterian  and  the  Metho- 
dist women  for  the  purpose  of  getting  up  a  box  of  cloth- 
ing for  the  Heathen  in  China."  This  was  new  work, 
as  it  was  in  the  early  days  of  foreign  missionary  societies, 
and  was  the  only  avenue  then  open  by  which  they  could 
aid  in  the  evangelization  of  the  dusky  races.  They  were 
obeying  the  divine  command,  "Go  ye  into  all  the 
world,"  etc.,  at  the  same  time  receiving  the  full  benefit 
of  the  "  reflex  influence,"  and  they  entered  into  it  with 
great  zeal.  The  woman  at  whose  house  they  were  to 
meet  made  it  a  special  duty  to  invite  all  persons  to  be 
present.  On  this  occasion  Mrs.  Barkins  rather  boast- 
ingly  remarked: 

I  have  invited  every  woman  from  both  congrega- 
tions, and  all  other  neighbors  except  Mrs.  Morris,  our 
new  neighbor,  and  I  don't  know,"  she  continued,  ''as  it 
was  real  Christian-like  in  me,"  but  I  just  thought  it  was 
a  good  time  to  let  her  know  we  could  live  without  her, 
she  feels  herself  so  smart;  and^don't  you  believe,  I  called 
upon  her  the  very  week  they  moved  there,  and  she  hasn't 

244 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


245 


returned  it  yet.  I  have  met  lier  as  I  was  coming  from 
the  village  three  times,  and  she  never  let  on  she  knew 
me,  so  I  thought  it  was  my  turn  to  snub  a  little." 

"  Perhaps,"  suggested  one  of  the  ladies,  "  she  is 
bashful,  and  don't  like  calling  on  strangers." 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  who  seemed  greatly  inter- 
ested, ^'it  can't  be  that,  for  I  went  down  ^  about  two 
weeks  ago  and  carried  her  some  new  yeast  I  had  made, 
and  some  fall  pippins,  and  she  seemed  like  a  real  clever 
sort  of  a  woman,  and  in  about  a  week  she  came  down  to 
see  if  I  wouldn't  sell  her  half-a-bushel,  as  her  little  girl 
was  teasing  her  so  much  that  she  thought  she  would  try 
and  get  her  some." 

Here  Mrs.  Barkins  broke  in  with: 

''-Her  little  girl!  little  girl!  perhaps  it  is.  I  guess 
some  folks  know  all  about  that  child,  whether  it  is  hers 
or  whether  it  is  somebody  else's.  Now,  I'll  just  tell  you 
folks  (confidentially)  how  that  is,"  said  she,  seating  her- 
self with  her  plate  and  tea-towel  in  her  hand.  "When 
I  found  how  cool  she  was  acting  with  me  I  wrote  to  my 
cousin  in  Wintersville,  where  she  came  from,  and  told 
her  what  airs  she  was  putting  on,  and  asked  her  to  tell 
me  all  about  her,  and  she  wrote  back  and  said,  that  she 
was  nothing  nor  nobody,  and  that  the  child  was  not  hers, 
but  was  left  there  by  an  old  man  who  gave  her  a  hundred 
dollars  to  take  her,  and  he  said  that  the  child  wore  a  little 
locket  that  she  must  not  let  her  lose  for  she  would  need 
it  some  day  to  get  her  a  great  fortune;  and  that  fortune 
is  all  that  made  them  take  the  child,  and  she  went  right 
off  and  got  that  great  plaid  silk  dress  and  them  brass 
earrings  and  chain  with  the  hundred  dollars,  and  never 
put  a  red  cent's  worth  of  it  on  the  child;  and  my  cousin 


246  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

said  that  that  was  the  i5rst  decent  dress  she  had  ever  had 
in  her  life.  But  the  man  told  her  she  should  be  well 
paid,  and  I  'spose  she  intends  to  dress  awful  nice;  but 
you  see  I  don't  think  clothes  can  make  what  Nature 
can't,  and  she  may  dress  as  fine  as  she  pleases  and 
Doomsday  will  find  her  the  same  low,  ill-bred  creature 
she  always  was." 

Mrs.  Geddiz  greatest  failing,  if  she  had  any,  was  that 
she  did  not  like  to  think  there  was  a  secret  in  the  neigh- 
borhood she  did  not  understand  more  fully  then  any 
other  person,  and  this  often  caused  her  to  reveal  things 
which  otherwise  would  have  remained  a  secret  forever 
with  her.  On  this  occasion  she  grew  nervous  as  she 
heard  Mrs.  Barkins  confirm  what  she  felt  almost  certain 
of  before,  and  yet  had  not  ventured  the  thought  even  to 
'Lijah  and  Susan,  and  into  no  ear  had  she  whispered  it, 
except  that  of  Jonathan.  As  soon  as  Mrs  Barkins  had 
concluded  her  torrent  of  abuse,  she  took  off  her  spec- 
tacles and  said  : 

^<  Well,  now,  did  you  ever!  I  'sposed  that  I  was  the 
only  person  about  here  that  knowed  about  that  child; 
but  it  seems  that  you  do  know  a  little  about  it  too.  I 
could  tell  you  things  tho'  that  would  fairly  make  your 
hairstand.  Not  that  I  say  anything  about  our  neigh- 
bor.   "  What's  her  name? " 

"  Morris,"  said  a  quiet  little  woman  by  her  side,  and 
who  had  not  looked  up  from  her  work  during  the  con- 
versation and  did  not  appear  at  all  interested  in  it. 

"O,  yes,  Morris,  continued  Mrs.  Geddiz.  She  may 
be  all  right — leastwise  we  will  give  her  a  fair  chance 
before  we  condemn  her.    She  has  done  a  Christian  duty 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


247 


to  give  the  child  a  home,  even  if  the  man  who  brought 
it  to  her  did  steal  it  from  a  much  grander  one." 

Steal  it  !  steal  it  ? "  cried  a  dozen  or  more  voices 
in  concert. 

''Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  emphasis,  "  Steal  it. 
Now  don't  one  of  you  ask  me  a  single  question,  for  all 
I  shall  say  is  this — I  will  have  the  society  next  time. 
It's  not  my  turn,  but  I  know  you  will  let  me  have  it 
when  I  give  you  my  plan,  and  some  day  I  will  tell  you 
all  about  that  child.  I  will  invite  her  to  the  society  and 
she  will  bring  the  child,  as  she  has  nobody  to  leave  it 
with.  I  will  liave  a  fire  in  the  front  room  upstairs  for 
the  children  to  play  in,  and  on  that  little  round  stand  in 
the  corner  will  lay  a  pictur'  of  a  child,  and  you  can  slip 
up  one  to  a  time  to  look  after  the  children  like,  and  you 
just  take  a  look  at  that  pictur"  and  then  at  that  child, 
and  if  you  don't  say  it  is  the  same  identical  face,  I  shall 
think  you  are  no  judge  of  picturs  and  faces." 

'^Oh,  dear,"  said  one  of  the  women,  Just  think  of 
it — we  shall  have  to  wait  two  whole  weeks." 

''Can't  we  have  our  next  one  sooner?"  said  another, 
while  a  third  suggested  that  they  meet  in  just  one  week 
from  that  day,  to  which  all  with  one  accord  consented. 

Mrs.  Morris  had  been  the  subject  of  conversation  from 
the  first,  and  of  rather  an  interesting  nature,  especially 
the  mysterious  part;  and  it  was  hard  to  drop  her  entirely, 
so  ever  and  anon  some  one  would  pick  her  up  and  com- 
ment upon  something  they  had  seen  or  heard.  Especially 
did  Mrs.  Barkins  seem  eager  to  give  vent  to  her  exasper- 
ated feelings,  and  at  one  time  she  said,  "What  do  yon 
think?  she  has  that  child  call  her  mamma,  and  the  child 
knows  well  enough  that  she  is  not  her  mother,  for  no 


248  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

mother  would  abuse  a  child  as  she  has  been  known  to 
do;  and  I  have  it  in  black  and  white  from  one  that 
knows  all  about  it  that  the  child  never  was  bruised  up 
as  she  has-been  without  somebody  being  cruel  to  her.  I 
can't  say  as  she  has  a  mother  living.  The  man,  they 
say,  claimed  to  be  her  father,  and  said  her  mother  was 
dead  and  his  sister  had  kept  house  for  him,  but  that  she 
had  gone  away,  and  tlie  child  called  her  Aunty-Mamma." 

^'Well,  as  for  me,"  said  a  maiden  lady  who  had  been 
an  eager  listener,  I  never  did  like  her  looks.  Her 
great  gray  eyes  tell  plain  enough  what  she  is;  but,"  she 
continued,  I  think  Mr.  Morris  a  real  nice-looking  man, 
and  I  know  he  is  the  best  of  the  two^ — pity  he  hadn't  a 
better  wife." 

''IlirnP^  fairly  screamed  Mrs.  Barkins,  ''he  is  a  per- 
fect sot — drunk  half  his  time — and  everything  else  that 
is  mean  and  low." 

Mrs.  Geddiz,  who  was  not  one  to  slander  her  neigh- 
bors, began  by  this  time  to  grow  quite  nervous,  and 
regretted  that  she  had  taken  any  part  in  the  conversa- 
tion. But  she  was  in  the  habit  of  letting  by-gones 
be  by-gones,  and  when  Mrs.  Barkins  said,  ''I  shall  be  so 
glad  to  see  her  set  bach  where  she  belongs — and  she  will 
be  when  she  finds  out  that  we  know  all  about  her — and 
then  she  will  drop  some  of  her  airs.  I'm  going  to  have 
my  Jim  tell  that  little  girl  that  she  is  not  her  mother 
the  very  first  chance  he  gets,"  Mrs.  Geddiz  could  stand 
it  no  longer  and  said: 

"  Now,  see  here,  women,  that  woman  may  be  all  right 
for  all  we  know,  and  we  may  like  her  real  well  after 
she  has  been  among  us  awhile.  As  for  me,  I  shall  do 
nothing  to  harm  her.    I  only  want  to  see  fair  play,  and 


Picked  up  a  few  momem  >    \  i  i  ii  lu  two  me:s  in  a  passing 
WAGON.    See  page  280. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


S49 


if  that  child  proves  to  be  the  right  one  I  shall  write  to 
certain  persons  and  they  will  come  and  attend  to  the 
business  of  getting  her  themselves,  and  it  will  be  no  small 
sum  the  woman  will  receive  for  her  reward.  Besides 
that,  he  never  was  her  father,  but  a  very  low-bred,  lazy 
fellow.  I  know  him._all  through,"  and  she  closed  her 
lips  tight  as  if  fearing  something  else  might  slip  out — 
and  then  with  a  long-drawn  breath  resumed:  "But  let 
us  try  to  think  well  of  that  woman  and  treat  her  right 
until  we  have  cause  to  do  otherwise,  remembering  that 
she  is  a  stranger  among  strangers,  and  if  she  has  not  been 
all  right  in  the  past  it's  no  way  to  make  her  better; 
besides  that  I  think  her  keeping  back  a  little  is  in  her 
favor,  and  it  comes  very  often  from  other  causes  as  much 
as  pride.  Sometimes  people  are  bashful,  and  some  have 
trouble  of  their  own,  and  some,  who  are  not  very  well 
off,  feel  a  little  beneath  those  they  think  are  better  off, 
and  so  it  goes;  and  with  all  my  experience  in  New  York 
City  and  other  places  I  never  could  fully  decide  this 
question — I  mean  I  never  could  tell  which  it  was  of  all 
tliese  things  that  caused  people  to  act  kind  o'  stuck-up 
like — and  so  we  had  better' wait  and  see  what  it  is  that 
ails  Mrs.  Morris." 

This  lengthy  plea  of  Mrs.  Geddiz'  put  a  quietus  upon 
the  Morris  question,  and  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  was 
spent  in  the  vain  endeavor  to  get  up  some  other  inter- 
esting topic  and  the  result  was  that  there  was  more 
accomplished  toward  filling  the  box  that  day  than  at 
any  previous  time! 

The  next  Wednesday  found  them  all  assembled  at  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Geddiz,  each  one  as  she  entered  being  met 
by  the  old  lady,  who  whispered,  "  She  is  here,  and  the 


250  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

child,  too."  Then,  in  an  audible  tone,  she  said,  "  Walk 
right  in ;  am  glad  yon  could  come,"  etc.  Mrs.  Morris 
being  among  the  first  to  come,  was  already  seated  with 
her  work  and  diligently  plying  her  needle.  The  room 
was  spacious,  and  she  seemed  to  be  for  a  time  an  isolated 
being.  A  dull  weight  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  the 
spirit  of  each  one,  and  the  attempt  to  rally  and  turn  the 
tide  into  a  social  channel  was  for  a  time  almost  as  diffi- 
cult as  to  turn  the  rivulet  back  to  the  fountain-head.  At 
length,  curiosity  gaining  the  ascendancy,  they  began 
one  after  another  to  go  upstairs,  ostensibly  to  look  after 
the  children,  and  when,  on  coming  down,  they  caught 
the  eye  of  Mrs.  Geddiz,  their  meaning  glances  said 
plainly  that  they  recognized  in  the  picture  Marna  Mor- 
ris, and  when,  at  a  later  hour,  Mrs.  Geddiz  herself  went 
up,  she  found  the  little  folks  huddled  together  looking 
at  the  picture,  each  in  turn  declaring  that  it  just  was 
Marna  Morris,  while  Marna  herself  looked  perplexed,  as 
if  trying  to  gather  up  some  broken  links  with  which  to 
connect  the  picture  with  herself.  Mrs.  Geddiz  thought 
this  a  favorable  time  for  a  still  farther  test,  so  taking  a 
picture  from  a  bureau  drawer  and  holding  it  up,  said: 

"  I  wonder  if  any  of  you  can  guess  who  this  is;"  at 
which  all  rushed  and  began  guessing.  But  Marna  Mor- 
ris, with  beaming  eyes,  uttered  not  a  word;  her  little 
face  grew  crimson  and  her  eyes  dim  with  tears.  Mrs. 
Geddiz,  seeing  this,  asked  kindly: 

"  Can't  you  give  a  guess,  too,  Marna?"  The  child 
dropped  her  head  and  said,  ''I  know  who  it  is.  It  is 
my  Aunty-Mamma." 

"What  is  her  name?"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz. 
Just  Aunty-Mamma,"  was  the  answer.  "  Won't  you 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


251 


give  her  to  me?  Please  do,  Grandma  Geddiz,  for  I 
want  her  so  bad." 

Her  pleading  little  voice  touched  that  great  heart,  and 
for  a  moment  she  found  it  hard  to  refuse.  But,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  she  stooped  and  kissed  the  little  up- 
turned face,  saying,  "  No,  dear,  this  is  a  friend  of  mine, 
and  1  can't  part  with  it."  And,  putting  it  back  in  the 
drawer,  she  bade  them  get  to  their  play  again. 

But  the  children  said,  ''Grandma  Geddiz  just  spoiled 
all  our  fun,  for  after  she  showed  us  that  picture,  Marna 
Morris  just  stood  and  looked  out  of  the  window  all  the 
time,  and  once  we  saw  her  crying  and  we  couldn't  get 
her  to  play  any  more.  But  she  said  she  wasn't  mad  at 
any  of  us,  only  she  wanted  to  go  home  to  the  nice,  big 
house." 

When  Mrs.  Geddiz  came  down  she  found  that  Mrs. 
Morris  had  removed  her  seat  and  was  sitting  near  Mrs. 
Barkins,  who  was  engaged  in  showing  her  something 
about  her  work.  They  seemed  to  be  getting  on  quite 
intimate  terms,  and  when  the  time  arrived  to  go  home, 
Mrs.  Barkins  accepted  a  ride  with  her,  and,  in  order  to 
ingratiate  herself  in  her  good  will,  told  her  many  things 
with  a  view  of  prejudicing  her  against  those  she  had  met 
that  day,  concluding  with: 

"  Mrs.  Geddiz  is  good  enough  in  her  way,  but  she 
has  some  very  queer  ways.  One  is  that  no  one  can 
come  into  the  neighborhood  but  she  will,  by  some  hook 
or  crook,  find  out  all  about  their  history,  and  that  of 
their  grandfathers  and  grandmothers.  I'll  venture  to 
say  that  she  knows  more  about  you  and  your  friends, 
family  affairs,  etc.,  than  you  do  yourself." 

"  That  can't  be  possible,  for  we  haven't  been  here  but 


252  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

two  months,  and  slie  has  not  seen  me  but  two  or  three 
times,"  said  Mrs.  Morris. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mrs.  Barkins,  "  but  I  know  she 
knows  more  than  jou  think  she  does.  She  knows  peo- 
ple for  miles  around,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  had 
written  to  some  one  down  where  you  came  from  to  find 
out  about  you.    It  would  be  just  like  her." 

'^Well,"  said  Mrs.  Morris,  laughing,  "if  that's  the 
case,  she  hasn't  found  out  anything  very  bad,  or  she 
would  not  have  invited  me  to  her  house  to  get  ac- 
quainted with  the  neighbors." 

"  Yes,  but,"  said  Mrs.  Barkins,  feeling  that  she  was 
not  making  the  desired  headway  in  prejudicing  her 
against  Mrs.  Geddiz,  "  she  may  have  had  some  other 
object  in  view  than  to  get  you  acquainted,  and  you  had 
better  look  out  for  her.  Of  course  we  all  know  her  and 
let  things  pass,  but  you  are  a  stranger  and  might  get 
into  trouble  with  her." 

By  this  time  they  had  turned  up  to  Mrs.  Barkins' 
gate,  and  as  she  got  out  and  took  little  Jim  up  from  his 
seat  at  her  feet,  where  he  and  Marna  were  put  for  the 
convenience  of  the  women,  she  invited  Mrs.  Morris  to 
run  in  often  and  see  her  and  be  neighborly,  which 
Mrs.  Morris  felt  glad  to  do  the  next  morning,  at 
an  early  hour,  saying  that  her  little  girl  was  very 
fretful  all  night,  and  keeps  wanting  to  go  down 
to  Grandma  Geddiz's  house  to  see  her  pretty  Aunty- 
Mamma's  picture.  She  said  Mrs.  Geddiz  had  it  in 
a  drawer  and  she  showed  it  to  them  all  ..  yesterday, 
and  that  she  had  another  picture  of  a  little  girl  and  she 
sliowed  it  to  all  the  women,  and  they  all  looked  at  her, 
and  the  children  all  said  it  was  her,  and  she  guessed  it 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


253 


was,  for  her  Aunty-Mamma  had  one  of  her,  and  it  looked 
just  like  it.  I  thought  I  would  first  run  down  and  see 
if  you  knew  what  it  meant." 

Of  course  Mrs.  Barkins  knew  nothing  more  than  what 
Mrs.  Geddiz  had  said  at  her  house,  but  Mrs.  Barkins 
was  one  who  could  guess  at  a  great  deal,  and  never  hesi- 
tated to  do  so  when  the  occasion  required,  so  she  said: 

"  I  knew  there  was  something  brewing  in  the  air,  and 
I  set  myself  to  work  and  found  it  out,  and,  as  a  friend,  I 
think  it  my  duty  to  tell  you.  Mrs.  Geddiz  has  found 
out  in  some  way  that  Marna  is  not  your  child,  but  was 
stolen  from  some  rich  folks  who  are  offering  a  big 
reward  for  her.  She  has  the  picture  of  the  child  that  was 
stolen,  but,  laws  me!  it  doesn't  look  no  more  like  that 
child  than  it  does  like  my  Jim.  But  she  thinks  it  does, 
and  is  laying  her  plans  to  steal  her  from  you  and  get 
that  reward.  It  is  the  money  she  is  after,  for  what  does 
she  care  for  them  or  the  child  either?  I  wanted  to  tell 
you  this  last  night,  but  we  got  home  before  I  got  to  it; 
but  don't  for  the  whole  world  let  her  know  that  I 
told  you,  and  that  meeting  was  at  her  house  a  week 
before  the  right  time,  just  so  to  have  the  folks  see  the 
child  and  the  picture  together,  and  you  never  would 
have  been  invited  but  for  that;"  and  then  stopping  just 
long  enough  to  catch  her  breath,  she  continued :  O, 
she  is  a  miserable  old  woman,  and  you'd  never  have  gone 
near  her  if  you  had  known  the  way  she  talked  about  you 
at  my  house,  and  right  before  all  the  Presbyterian 
women,  too.  My  blood  fairly  curdled  to  hear  her,  and  it 
was  only  her  age  that  kept  me  from  telling  her  to  just 
stop  slandering  strangers.'' 

The  fact  was  Mrs.  Barkins  felt  a  little  piqued  by  the 


254  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

quiet  rebuke  given  her  by  Mrs.  Geddiz  at  a  former  meet- 
ing, and  this  was  her  opportunity  for  revenge.  As  the 
two  were  by  this  time  on  quite  familiar  and  confidential 
terms,  Mrs.  Morris  came  suddenly  down  from  her 
pedestal  of  quiet  dignity,  and  was  her  own  rough,  vul- 
gar self  once  more — in  which  element  she  seemed  to 
breathe  more  freely — she  broke  forth  in  quite  an 
excited  manner,  saying:  ^'Well,  as  far  as  the  brat  is 
concerned,  I  don't  care  how  soon  they  take  her  away.  I 
always  did  abominate  youngsters,  and  now,  worse  than 
ever.  I  hate  the  sight  of  them,  and  she  has  worried  the 
very  life  out  of  me  fretting  after  her  Ai:nty-Mamma, 
and  I  gave  her  a  good  pounding  for  it  this  morning,  but 
it's  no  use.  I  believe  if  I  should  half  kill  her  she  would 
keep  it  up,  and  even  in  her  sleep  she  cries  and  frets  for 
her,  and  it's  just  enough  to  set  one  wild;  and  I  tell 
John  that  I  can't  stand  it  this  way  much  longer.  But 
he  is  one  of  the  lazy  kind,  and  they  always  have  more 
patience  than  smart  people,  I  reckon,  besides  he  seems 
to  like  her.  The  man  said  he  would  come  around  once 
and  awhile  to  see  her,  as  she  was  all  he  had ;  that  we 
should  be  well  paid  for  keeping  her,  and  he  had  us  leave 
Wintersville,  saying  if  we  went  among  strangers  they 
wouldn't  know  but  what  she  was  our  own.  You  said 
there  was  a  big  reward  oflfered,  did  you?" 
"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Barkins,  "  so  they  say," 
"  Well,"  continued  Mrs.  Morris,  "  I  suppose  a  'bird 
in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush,'  and  perhaps  'tis 
more  than  we  will  ever  get  from  the  man,  and  just  as 
like  as  not  we  will  never  hear  from  him  again.  But  he 
can't  saddle  the  young  one  on  to  me  in  that  way.  I 
shall  just  look  out  for  that  reward  myself,  and  get  rid 


A  STORT  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


255 


of  her,  too.  I'll  be  blamed  if  I  don't.  I'll  show  that 
old  vixen  that  she'll  have  to  get  up  mighty  early  if  she 
gets  ahead  of  me,"  and  she  drew  her  apron  over  her 
unkempt  head,  as  if  to  leave,  when  Mrs.  Barkins  detained 
her  long  enough  to  find  out  when  she  had  taken  the 
child  and  get  a  description  of  the  man  that  brought  her 
to  them,  and,  following  her  out  to  the  gate,  she  said: 

'^Now,  mind  and  keep  the  child  in  the  house,  and 
don't  let  that  old  wretch  outwit  you,  and  perhaps  she 
will  learn  to  let  other  people's  business  alone  if  she  gets 
beat  a  few  times." 

Mrs.  Morris  had  scarcely  put  the  hill  between  herself 
and  Mrs.  Barkins  when  tlie  latter,  throwing  a  shawl 
over  her  head  and  taking  a  glass  of  new-made  jelly  in 
her  hand,  went  down  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Geddiz.  As  she 
entered  the  door  the  old  lady  arose  from  a  table  where 
she  was  writing,  and  Mrs.  Barkins,  throwing  herself 
unceremoniously  in  a  chair,  said  with  a  chuckling 
laugh : 

"  O,  but  I  did  draw  the  wool  over  that  creature's  eyes 
last  night.  I  let  on  to  be  awful  well  pleased  with  her, 
and  she  told  me  all  about  the  child.  She  isn't  hers,  and 
she  got  her  in  June  of  an  old,  long-eyebrowed  man,  who 
said  that  she  was  his  own,  and  that  he  was  rich,  and  was 
going  to  pay  her  well  for  keeping  her,  and  it's  my  opin- 
ion it's  the  money  she's  after,  for  she  says  she  hates  the 
brat,  and  what  do  you  think,  the  child  spoke  up  and 
said,  '  Grandma  Geddiz  has  my  Aunty-Mamma's  pic- 
ture,' but  I  guess  Mrs.  Morris  didn't  know  just  what 
she  said,  for  she  told  her  to  '  shut  up  when  big  folks 
were  talking,'  "  arid  then  in  the  same  breath  she  asked, 
"  What  picture  was  it  you  showed  her?" 


256  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

For  some  reason  or  other  Mrs.  Geddiz  did  not  feel 
disposed  to  be  very  communicative  at  that  time,  so  she 
only  replied :  "  O,  that  was  a  young  woman  in  New  York 
City,  and  1  thought  I'd  amuse  the  children,  so  I  showed 
it  to  them.    It's  nobody  you  know." 

"  I  'most  forgot,"  said  Mrs.  Barkins,  as  if  to  change 
the  subject,  "  I  brought  you  down  a  little  of  my  crab- 
apple  jelly.  It's  real  nice,  and  I  always  feel  like  sharing 
every  nice  thing  I  have  with  you — for  you  have  been, 
such  a  dear,  good  mother  to  me — and  I  tell  you  what  it 
is,  anyone  with  half  an  eye  could  tell  that  that  picture 
was  taken  from  that  very  child,  and  if  I  was  you  I 
would  get  her  away  from  that  miserable  woman  just  as 
soon  as  I  could,  and  if  I  can  help  you  in  any  way  I 
shall  be  perfectly  willing  to  do  so.  I  can  get  her  down 
to  my  house,  and  you  can  easily  get  her  from  there  and 
take  her  away  where  they  never  will  find  her  out — but, 
I  'spose,  they'll  never  try  very  hard." 

But  that  was  not  Mrs.  Geddiz's  way  of  doing,  so  she 
said: 

"  I  shall  have  no  hand  in  the  matter  more  than  to 
write  to  certain  folks  about  her  and  tell  where  the  child 
is,  and  I  think  by  them  payin'  a  little  more  than  has 
been  promised  for  keepin'  of  her,  they  will  have  no 
trouble  about  gettin'  her,  and  I  shall  see  that  the 
woman  is  well  paid  for  what  trouble  she  has  had  with 
the  child." 

The  conversation  was  not  so  full  of  information  as 
Mrs.  Barkins  had  anticipated,  so  she  rose  to  leave, 
saying: 

"  If  you  have  your  letter  written  I  will  mail  it  for 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  257 

you,  as  I  am  going  down  to  the  village,"  to  which  Mrs. 
Geddiz  replied: 

"No,  I  am  not  half  done,  and  Jonathan  and  me  will 
be  going  down  soon,"  tod  she  took  up  the  corner  of  her 
clean  gingham  apron  and  began  wiping  her  spectacles 
preparatory  to  resuming  her  writing,  seeing  which  Mrs. 
Barkins  took  her  leave,  and  on  her  way  home,  thinking 
how  cool  she  had  been  treated  by  Mrs.  Geddiz,  she, grew 
quite  angry,  and  resolved  to  get  even  with  her  at  all 
hazards,  and  only  stopping  at  home  long  enough  to 
replenish  her  fire  and  set  a  kettle  of  burned  sauce  out  of 
doors,  she  hastened  to  Mrs.  Morris',  saying  by  w^ay  of 
apology  as  she  entered,  "  I  had  an  errand  down  to  Mrs. 
Geddiz'  and  what  do  you  think,  she  has  a  letter  all  writ- 
ten to  send  to  the  child's  folks,  and  she  told  them  she 
would  get  the  child  soon,  and  bring  it  to  them.  She 
seems  in  an  awful  hurry  to  get  flie  letter  mailed,  and 
wanted  me  to  take  it  to  the  village  as  their  men  were  too 
busy  to  go,  but  I  hadn't  time  to  run  errands  for  her, 
much  less  such  errands  as  that." 

"I  wish  you  had  taken  it,"  said  Mrs.  Morris,  *'then 
we  could  have  found  out  whose  child  it  was  and  burned 
the  letter  and  wrote  one  ourselves,  and  got  the  reward." 

"  There,  that's  just  like  me,"  said  Mrs.  Barkins,  "  my 
wits  never  did  come  until  it  was  too  late." 

"  Can't  you  make  some  excuse — tell  her  you  had  to  go 
to  the  village  and  would  be  glad  to  take  her  letter." 

"Yes;  but  its  too  late  now,  for  as  I  was  leaving 
I  heard  her  calling  to  a  boy  that  was  passing  on  horse- 
back, and  she  went  down  to  the  road  and  gave  him  a 
letter.  O,  she's  a  sharper,"  she  continued,  "  she  will 
outwit  you  yet  if  you  are  not  careful.    But  if  I  were 

17 


258  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

you,  rather  tlian  let  her  get  that  reward,  I  would  go  so 
far  away  that  they  could  not  find  me,"  and  having  di- 
vested herself  of  this  tirade,  she  sailed  off,  doubtless 
feeling  that  she  had  discharged  a  Christian  duty. 

The  next  morning  Jonathan  Geddiz  spoke  of  going  to 
the  village,  and  Mrs.  Geddiz  said,  "  I  guess  I  will  go 
along  and  stop  with  Mrs.  Morris  till  you  come  back;  but 
don't  forget  to  put  the  letter  in  the  post-office." 

"What  was  their  surprise  as  they  drew  up  in  front  of 
the  Morris  house  to  see  the  curtains  away  from  the 
windows  and  looking  as  if  deserted. 

"  "Well,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  "  they  have  run  off 
and  took  that  child,  and  the  dear  knows  where  they  have 
gone,  and  very  likely  we  will  never  hear  of  them  agin, 
and  there  I  took  a  whole  sheet  of  paper  and  was  nearly 
all  day  a  writin'  of  it,  and  its  no  use  to  send  it  now.  I 
never  did  see  such  luck,"  and  the  old  lady  showed  great 
disappointment." 

"  "Well,  Mother,"  said  Jonathan,  "  I  wouldn't  feel  so 
bad,  mebbe  its  all  for  the  best.  You  know  God's  ways 
are  very  mysterious,  and  we've  just  got  to  take  him  as 
he  is." 

The  ride  to  the  village  and  back  was  rather  a  quiet 
one,  Mrs.  Geddiz  not  rallying  from  her  disappointment 
sufficient  to  be  as  talkative  as  usual.  After  their  return 
she  seemed  buried  in  deep  thought  for  a  time,  and  at 
last  she  said: 

"  I  do  miss  Adaline  so  much.  I  wish  it  wasn't  so  far 
to  Philadelphy;  I  would  go  down  and  tell  her  what  a 
'  hit-and-miss '  time  I  have  had  since  she  went  away, 
and  praps  she  could  give  me  a  word  of  comfort  or 
advice." 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


259 


Yes,  Mother,"  said  Jonathan,  at  the  conclusion  of  a 
long,  loud  yawn,  ''life  is  'hit-and-miss'  all  the  way 
through,  not  only  with  us,  but  with  everybody.  And  it 
would  be  well  if  we  could  all  feel  that  there  was  no 
great  sin  in  the  mistakes  of  this  life." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  a  sigh,  "  but  we 
never  stop  to  think  what  sin  is.  Now,  I  think  there  is 
an  awful  lot  of  sin  committed  where  a  few  are  together? 
— like  at  the  Sewing  Society;  talking  about  persons  that 
are  not  present,  and  meddlin'  with  their  affaire, — jist 
as  much  as  there  is  in  tellin'  lies  and  doin'  mean  things 
to  injure  them." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Mr.  Geddiz,  as  he  arose  and  put 
away  his  boots  and  started  towards  his  room,  "  it  is  the 
little  fish  that  rile  the  waters,  and  the  little  sins  that 
corrupt  our  lives." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


A  QUIET  WEDDING. 

Some  years  after  Jane  Coil  had  become  the  com- 
panion and  nurse  of  the  wealthy  invalid  widow  iii 
Brooklyn,  found  her  once  more  packing  her  trunk  to  go 
— she  did  not  know  where.  Mrs.  Bell  was  dead,  and  at 
that  hour  was  lying  in  the  parlor  below.  Before  hei 
death, — after  providing  for  Jane,  to  whom  she  had 
become  greatly  attached  during  the  years  of  faithful  and 
loving  care  and  patience  in  indulging  her  capricioua 
whims, — she  had  given  her  niece,  her  only  heir,  the 
homestead,  -with  its  antique  yet  elegant  furnishings, 
coupled  with  a  request  that  if  Jane  wished  to  remain 
she  should  have  a  home  with  the  family.  But  Jane 
thought  that,  with  what  she  had  saved  of  her  earnings 
artd  the  thousand  dollars  left  her  by  Mrs.  Bell,  she  could 
procure  more  quiet  and  congenial  quarters,  and  as  the 
new  family  was  to  take  possession  immediately  after  the 
funeral,  she  concluded  to  gather  up  her  clothing  and  the 
few  pieces  of  furniture  that  Mrs.  Bell  had  given  her, 
preparatory  to  leaving.  That  morning  two  of  the  girls 
had  been  looking  over  the  house,  and  coming  into  her 
room,  informed  her  that  they  expected  to  occupy  that 
room,  as  it  fronted  the  street;  and  as  she  was  not  likely 
to  remain  but  a  short  time,  she  could  occupy  one  of  the 
rear  rooms.  Jane  did  not  know  at  that  time  that  Mrs. 
Bell's  niece  and  her  two  daughters  were  coming  from 
an  old  tenement  house  on  one  of  the  thickly-populated 

260 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


261 


streets  in  the  vicinity  of  Five  Points,  and  had  nothing 
with  which  to  refurnish  the  room,  or  she  would  have 
then  (what  she  subsequently  did)  donated  the  carpet  and 
furniture  to  those  two  insolent  girls.  While  engaged 
with  her  packing,  a  servant  entered,  saying: 

The  Doctor  is  below  and  wishes  to  see  you,"  adding 
as  she  pulled  the  door  to  after  her,  "  I  guess  somebody 
else  is  sick  and  wants  a  nurse;"  and  so  thought  Jane  as 
she  descended  the  stairs  to  find  the  Doctor  seated  in  a 
snug  little  parlor  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  hall  from 
where  lay  the  lifeless  body  of  their  late  patient,  upon 
whom  he  had  called  almost  every  week  for  the  last  four 
years. 

J ane  noticed  as  she  entered  that  there  was  a  certain 
stiff  embarrassment  in  the  Doctor's  manner  wholly 
unlike  anything  she  had  observed  before,  but  attributed 
it  to  his  sense  of  reverence  for  the  dead.  After  extend- 
ing to  him  her  morning  salutations,  she  seated  herself 
by  a  window  looking  out  upon  the  crowded  street.  After 
touching  upon  various  topics  calculated  to  induce  con- 
versation, and  failing  to  get  more  than  a  simple  response, 
she  began  to  wonder  at  his  changed  manner.  Some  how 
or  other  the  Doctor's  tongue  would  not  move  to  suit 
him,  and  the  easy  chairs  grew  weary  of  him  so  soon  that 
he  was  obliged  to  keep  moving  from  one  to  another. 

At  length  he  said:  Where  are  you  going  now,  Miss 
Coil?" 

4 

She  had  never  known  him  to  call  her  aught  else  than 
Jane  since  their  first  acquaintance  in  the  old  tenement- 
house  on  Forty-second  street,  and  the  formality  was  a 
source  of  embarrassment  to  her,  and  she  somewhat 
timidly  replied: 


262  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

I  do  not  know.    Have  yon  a  place  for  me?" 

"  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  a  place  for  you — one 
that  I  have  been  keeping  for  you  for  some  time." 

At  this  a  smile  so  mingled  with  embarrassment  that 
his  features  were  distorted  to  an  unnaturalness  so  great 
as  to  cause  great  perplexity  in  Jane's  mind;  but  she  cast 
it  aside  sufficient  to  ask  w^here  the  place  was,  and  when 
she  would  be  expected  to  go. 

You  need  not  be  in  any  great  haste,"  said  the 
Doctor;  "any  time  this  week  or  by  the  first  of  next, 
just  as  it  suits  you." 

"Well,"  rejoined  Jane,  "if  they  are  sick  enough  to 
need  a  nurse  I  think  the  sooner  I  go  the  better." 

"Well,  as  to  that,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  another 
sickly  smile,  "  it  is  not  a  nurse  they  want  so  much  as  a 
housekeeper — and — and  a  heart-keeper,"and  then,  fright- 
ened half  out  of  his  wits  he  jumped  from  his  chair  and, 
rushing  up  to  Jane,  said:  "Confound  it  !  what  an  old 
fool  I  am  to  go  beating  about  the  bush  in  this  way,  and 
whimpering  like  a  silly  young  boy  in  his  puppy  love.  It 
is  myself  !  I  want  you  to  keep  house  for  me.  My  cousin 
leaves  in  about  two  weeks,  and  I  would  like  to  have  you 
installed  housekeeper-in-chief  before  she  leaves." 

"  Well,  Doctor,"  said  Jane,  not  comprehending  him, 
"  would  not  the  better  way  be  for  you  to  get  a  small 
family  in  your  house  and  board  with  them  ?  Not  but 
that  I  have  full  confidence  in  you  as  a  gentleman,  but  it 
might  injure  you  in  your  profession ;  you  know  people 
are  so  ready  to  make  remarks." 

The  truth  was  Jane  had  had  an  offer  in  marriage 
while  yet  in  her  teens  from  a  very  ardent  and  devoted 
lover,  whose  love  was  returned  by  the  affectionate  girl, 


A  STOKY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


263 


but  she  was  doomed  to  give  him  up  to  her  rival,  Death; 
and  the  recollections  of  their  moonlight  strolls,  his  oft- 
repeated  declarations  of  unchanging  love,  and  his  fond 
caresses,  were  among  her  choicest  memories,  and  it  had 
never  occurred  to  her  mind  that  a  bride  could  be  won  in 
any  other  way.  She  regarded  love-making  with  honeyed 
words,  as  the  only  avenue  leading  to  the  marriage  altar, 
and  for  this  reason  she  failed  to  comprehend  the  Doctor's 
true  meaning. 

''Now,  see  here,  Jane,"  said  the  Doctor,  with  one  bold 
dash,  "  I  am  not  polished  enough  to  go  at  this  matter 
in  a  systematic  way;  and  besides  that  I  am  too  old  to  go 
billing  and  cooing  around  like  a  boy,  but  I  love  you, 
Jane,  just  as  well  as  if  I  did,  and  what  I  want  of  you  is 
to  be  my  wife.    Will  you  consent?" 

Jane  had  known  the  Doctor  long  and  well  enough  to 
fully  undei'stand  that  his  great  soul  was  all  generosity 
and  love,  and  she  had  not  only  held  him  in  esteem  far 
above  all  others,  but  had  recognized  his  magnetic  power 
over  her,  and  in  her  secret  heart  had  dreaded  the  coming 
of  a  time  when  his  professional  ^dsits  might  not  call  him 
to  where  she  was.  So  after  a  little  further  conversation 
she  readily  gave  her  consent,  which  was  no  sooner  gained 
than  the  Doctor,  with  all  his  reserve  thrown  aside,  began 
urging  her  to  go  with  him  to  his  home  as  soon  as  the 
funeral  was  over,  and  in  the  presence  of  his  cousin  and 
her  family  have  the  ceremony  performed  that  would  give 
her  the  legitimate  riglit^of  housekeeper.  But  Jane  did 
not  relish  the  idea  of  being  married  in  his  home,  so  she 
proposed  that,  as  a  friend  and  schoolmate  of  Mrs.  Bell's, 
with  his  wife,  had  come  quite  a  distance  to  attend  the 
funeral  and  was  stopping  at  the  house,  was  a  minister. 


264  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

the  Doctor  come  there  early  in  the  evening  after  the 
funeral  and  they  be  married  quietly,  and  she  would 
return  with  him  to  his  home. 

"  And,"  she  added,  "  it  will  be  so  much  more  to  my 
taste  to  go  as  Mrs.  Bien  than  as  Jane  Coil." 

"  That  will  suit  me  admirably,"  said  the  Doctor. 
Now  I  must  be  off,"  and,  forgetting  that  he  was  not  a 
boy  in  his  "puppy  love,"  he  clasped  the  blushing  girl  in 
his  arms  and,  embracing  her  with  fervor,  whispered 
words  which  brought  a  warmer  glow  to  Jane's  cheeks 
and  a  brighter  sparkle  in  her  eyes  than  had  been  there 
for  many  a  year. 

It  was  some  months  after  Jane  had  become  Mrs.  Bien 
that  she  and  the  Doctor  were  seated  at  the  tea-table^ 
when  he  said: 

"  J anie,  did  I  tell  you  that  the  old  woman  who  wove 
carpets  and  had  the  little  boy  we  called  Tommy,  that 
lived  in  the  house  where  Mrs.  Clare  died^  was  very  ill? 
You  remember  her,  don't  you?" 

"  I  remember  her  very  well,"  said  his  wife,  and 
always  regarded  her  as  a  good  old  lady,  and  I  think  she 
has  seen  better  days.  Once  when  I  was  in  her  room 
she  opened  that  great  chest  that  stood  at  the  foot  of  her 
bed,  and  I  saw  some  elegant  silks  that  looked  as  if  they 
might  be  dresses  folded  up.  I  would  like  to  see  the  old 
lady  once  more." 

"Well,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  I  was  just  going  to  pro- 
pose that  you  ride  around  with  me  to-morrow.  She 
asked  after  you,  but  had  not  heard  that  I  had  adopted 
you  until  I  told  her." 

Here  the  good-natured  Doctor  gave  a  hearty  laugh 
over  the  "  adoption,"  as  he  continued,  "  You  have  not 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


265 


forgotten  the  boy,  have  you?  He  has  grown  since  then, 
and  he  is  a  manly-looking  chap.  He  must  be  about 
sixteen  years  of  age,  isn't  he?" 

About  that,"  said  Jane,  rather  quietly,  for  speaking 
of  them  took  lier  back  to  the  days  and  friends  of  the 
time  of  her  living  there,  and  although  only  about  four^ 
and  a  half  years,  it  seemed  a  much  longer  time.  Her 
life  had  been  so  different  during  that  time  that  the  old 
days  of  anxiety  and  toil  seemed  to  be  shrinking  back,  as 
if  seeking  to  escape  from  her  memory. 

"  The  old  lady,"  continued  the  Doctor,  "  tells  me  some 
new  and  strange  things  about  that  boy.  She  is  no  rela- 
tive of  his,  but  was  brought  up  in  hi^  grandfather's 
family, — was  his  mother's  nurse  and  governess  when 
she  was  a  child,  and  when  deprived  of  her  own  mother 
had  taken  her  place  in  the  young  girl's  heart  as  much  as 
possible.  But  the  father  married  again  m  less  than  two 
years,  and  the  new  wife  grew  jealous  of  the  love  that  was 
existing  between  the  governess  and  daughter,  and  sent 
her  away,  and  as  she  had  nowhere  else  to  go,  she 
accepted  the  hospitality  of  an  old  lady — a  distant  relative 
— who  was  dependent  upon  her  loom  for  her  daily 
bread.  She  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  being  dependent, 
and  so  began  assisting  at  the  loom,  and  that  is  how  she 
has  been  enabled  to  support  herself  and  Tommy  since 
coming  to  this  country." 

"  But  how  did  she  come  by  Tommy  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Bein. 

"  It  was  this  way,"  said  the  Doctor.  "  After  the  new 
mother  had  Miss  Caruthers  sent  away,  the  girl  kept 
track  of  her,  and  after  a  while  she  married  a  noble- 
man's son,  but  his  father  not  being  pleased  that  his  son 


266  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

should  marry  out  of  the  nobility,  did  but  little  to  make 
it  pleasant  for  him.  So,  after  a  few  years,  he  decided  to 
take  his  wife  and  child  and  seek  a  home  in  America,  and 
with  the  assurance  that  she  should  have  with  them  a 
home  during  life  if  desired,  she  decided  to  accompany 
them.  When  they  were  but  three  days  out  at  sea,  Mr. 
Austin,  not  feeling  well  at  evening,  went  on  deck,  as  he 
said,  to  get  the  fresh  air.  His  hat  and  cane  were  found 
a  few  hours  later,  but  Mr.  Austin  was  never  afterward 
seen,  and  the  supposition  was  that  he  had  grown  dizzy 
and  had  fallen  overboard.  The  young  wife  being  in 
delicate  health,  declined  rapidly  and  died  of  a  broken 
heart,  and  her  lifeless  form,  with  that  of  her  three 
hours'  old  babe,  was  consigned  to  the  same  waters  as 
that  of  her  husband,  and  the  same  rolling  waves 
enshrouded  them — the  same  sighing  winds  sang  their 
requium — the  same  peaceful  rest  was  given  them,  and 
together  they  had  found  their  America.  Before  her 
death,  realizing  its  approach,  she  said  to  Miss  Caruthers : 
^  Take  my  little  boy  and  care  for  him  as  long  as  you  can. 
Ton  will  find  several  thousand  dollars  in  my  chest,  and 
perhaps  by  the  time  that  is  expended  he  will  be  able  to 
care  for  both  himself  and  you.  He  need  not  know,'  she 
continued,  '  but  what  you  are  his  Grandmother.  Give 
him  your  name,  for  now  that  my  own  parents  are  dead 
and  all  my  other  relatives,  1  do  not  care  to  have  him 
feel  the  mortification  of  being  an  unrecognized  member 
of  his  father's  proud  family.  But  remember,  before  you 
die,  if  you  can,  leave  papers  with  some  reliable  person 
certifying  that  his  real  name  is  Charles  Austin,  and  that 
he  is  the  son  of  Tweed  Austin  and  the  grandson  of 
Preston  Austin,  of  England,  so  that  in  case  they  ever 


A  STORY  OFJREAL  LIFE 


26T 


call  for  him,  or  their  property  is  without  an  heir,  he 
can  have  a  legal  claim  to  the  estate.  His  father  made 
out  papers  to  that  effect  before  we  left  England.  You 
will  find  them  in  the  chest.  Keep  my  clothing,  as  also 
my  jewels,  for  friends  may  identify  them.  But  keep 
this  all  to  yourself,  until  the  time  comes  when  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  reveal  it.  Educate  the  dear  child 
as  well  as  you  can  with  the  little  you  will  have;  the 
most  we  had  was  sewed  up  in  dear  husband's  waist-belt 
and  will  never  be  used  for  any  purpose.'  And  Miss 
Caruthers  says  she  never  used  a  farthing  of  the  five 
hundred  pounds,  as  she  found  quite  a  sum  in  his 
mother's  purse,  and  with  what  she  could  earn  and  the 
little  odd  jobs  Tommy  has  had,  they  have  been  made 
comfortable  up  to  this  time  and  with  enough  left  to 
bury  her  when  she  has  gone.  And  now  that  life  is 
drawing  to  a  close  with  her  she  wishes  to  turn  over  the 
papers,  the  money,  the  chest  of  clothes,  the  jewels,  the 
boy,  and  the  secret  to  our  keeping,  and  asks  that  we 
give  him  the  education  his  dying  mother  wished  hira 
to  have.  I  have  promised  that,  if  you  are  willing,  to 
do  all  I  could  toward  fulfilling  her  request.  What  do 
you  say,  Janie?" 

Jane  replied:  "  I  have  always  admired  the  boy  and 
will  be  glad  to  have  you  do  anything  you  wish  for  him, 
with  the  assurance  of  my  hearty  co-operation.  But  there 
is  one  thing  I  do  not  understand,"  she  continued. 

What  was  her  object  in  changing  his  surname  from 
Charles  to  Tommy?" 

"  Well,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  she  explained  that  by 
saying  she  had  a  fancy  tor  that  name,  as  it  belonged  to 


268  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

one  very  dear  to  lier,  but  who  died  a  week  before  they 
were  to  have  been  married." 

This  statement  touched  a  tender  chord  which  vibrated 
in  response,  for  there  was  a  treasured  name  in  Jane's 
heart,  and  she  excused  it  all. 

Two  weeks  later  found  Tommy  with  the  great  oaken 
chest  and  its  mysterious  contents  snugly  ensconced  in 
one  of  the  best  chambers  of  Doctor  Bien's  pleasant 
home.  The  change  was  a  great  one  for  Tommy,  who 
had  known  no  better  home  than  the  old  tenement  house. 
He  felt  strangely  awkward  and  out  of  place  at  first,  but 
Mrs.  Bien  with  her  wonderful  tact  was  doing  much  to 
make  him  feel  at  home,  and  at  the  same  time  direct  his 
mind  from  his  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  one  who  had  been 
very  dear  to  him.  But  it  was  many  months  before  ho 
could  speak  of  his  grandmother  without  tears,  for  his 
was  a  heart  that  never  buried  a  love  so  far  away^  in 
memory's  vault  that  he  could  not  visit  it  whenever  the 
shadows  were  falling.  This  Mrs.  Bien  soon  learned  and 
highly  appreciated,  as  he  told  her  how  gratefully  he  had 
cherished  her  memory,  as  also  that  of  Mrs.  Clare  and 
little  Nellie,  and  how  he  had  traversed  the  city,  visiting 
orphans'  homes,  hospitals  and  old  tenement  houses,  as 
well  as  going  miles  in  almost  every  direction,  with  the 
hope  of  getting  some  trace  of  the  stolen  child,  and  one 
time  in  conversation  with  her  he  said : 

"  I  will  never  give  up  the  search,  for  I  feel  in  my 
heart  that  sometime^  somewhere^  I  shall  find  her." 

Mrs.  Bien  sighed  as  he  went  out  of  the  room,  and 
said  to  herself,  "That  boy,  with  his  strange,  deep  love 
for  that  child,  will  follow  that  ignis  fatuus  through 
life  to  the  exclusion  of  all  that  would  tend  toward  mak- 


A  STORY  OF  REAJ.  LIFE. 


269 


ing  him  a  happy,  noble  and  useful  man.  I  am  sorry  for 
him,  but  I  know  of  nothing  that  will  effect  a  change, 
unless  Time  can  do  the  work  so  noiselessly  that  he  will 
not  detect  it  until  the  change  is  perfectly  wrought,  for 
which  I  wish  I  could  pray." 

Time  wore  on,  and  Tommy,  by  assisting  the  Doctor  in 
various  ways  when  not  in  school,  began  to  feel  that 
indeed  be  had  found  a  home  in  every  sense  of  the  word, 
and  the  neighbors  and  his  schoolmates  knew  him  by  no 
other  name  than  Tommy  Bien,  and  but  few  parents  take 
a  greater  interest  in  the  training  and  dev^eloping  of  an 
upright  character  than  did  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Bien  in 
their  new  trust.  But  the  time  came  when  he  must 
leave  them  for  a  time  to  attend  college,  as  the  Doctor 
said  to  his  wife,  ''There  is  no  better  way  to  invest  a 
part  of  this  money  than  by  putting  it  in  his  brain  where 
he  will  get  '  compound  interest '  on  every  dollar  that  is 
invested." 

^'A  few  days  later  found  Tommy  bidding  good-bj^e  to 
Mrs.  Bien,  and  taking  up  his  satchel  he  got  into  the 
carriage  with  the  Doctor  and  followed  his  trunk  to  the 
depot. 

The  home  was  lonely  without  him,  and  the  time 
seemed  long  until  he  should  return.  They  did  not  seem 
to  realize  that  at  the  end  of  the  live  years  of  his  absence 
that  he  would  be  no  longer  the  boy  that  left  them,  and 
that  after  a  classical  education  would  come  a  profession, 
and  that  he  would  never  be  theirs  again  as  he  had  been. 
But  this  they  fully  realized  when  after  his  return  he 
began  to  talk  of  preparing  for  his  life  work,  and  the 
good,  kind  Doctor  felt  no  little  disappointment  when  he 
announced  his  intention  of  studying  the  law.    He  had 


270  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

hoped,  in  fact  he  had  scarcely  ever  thought  of  him  as 
other  than  his  own  student,  upon  whom  his  professional 
mantle  should  fall,  and  who  would  be  not  only  his  heir 
as  far  as  property  was  concerned,  but  also  inherit  his 
extensive  practice  and  continue  the  care  of  the  many 
families  descending  from  those  whom  he  had  watched 
with  interest  for  many  years.  But  with  their  good 
judgment  they  made  no  attempt  to  dissuade  him  from 
taking  his  own  course,  and  became  quite  reconciled 
when  they  found  that  he  was  going  to  pursue  his  studies 
in  the  city,  and  would  make  his  home  with  them. 

A  few  years  afterward  a  neat  little  sign  could  be 
observed  from  a  second-story  window  on  Broadway  bear- 
ing the  words  "T.  B.  Caruchers,  attorney-at-law."  It 
was  also  observed  by  the  observing  ones  that  in  less  than 
three  months  that  same  little  sign  had  given  place  to 
one  announcing  to  the  public  that  a  physician  was  the 
occupant  of  that  room. 

"  I  thought  so,"  remarked  an  old  member  of  the  bar 
across  the  way  to  his  partner.  Those  sprigs  stand  a 
good  chance  to  starve  out  in  a  short  time,  especially 
when  they  put  on  such  airs.  Why  haven't  they  got 
brains  enough  to  know  how  to  work  their  way  up? 
They  seem  to  think  they  must  start  just  where  we  are 
who  have  struggled  for  years.  Why  don't  they  begin 
on  small  rent  in  some  street  in  the  outskirts,  not  plant 
themselves  right  under  the  noses  of  the  old  '  veterans.' 
They  never  succeed  in  that  way,  and  I  predicted  this 
thing  when  I  saw  that  young  student  of  Bartlett's  hang 
out  his  shingle." 

His  partner,  Mr.  Sanford,  who  was  a  much  younger 
man,  seemed  somewhat  inclined  to  resent  these  remarks 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


271 


made  by  one  who  had  made  great  promises  of  help 
which  had  never  been  given,  but  instead  had  proved  a 
burden  of  indolence  hard  to  get  rid  of.  So  he  rather 
ironically  replied: 

"  He  at  least  has  one  redeeming  trait.  His  office  is 
as  neat  as  a  lady's  chamber.  Everything  is  in  its  place, 
and  one  could  not,  if  he  tried,  write  his  name  in  the 
dust  or  get  tangled  in  swinging  cobwebs;  and  I  had 
thought,  as  I  see  he  is  always  busy  and  his  office  full 
most  of  the  time,  that  he  would  be  a  valuable  addition 
to  our  firm." 

"l^ot  a  bit  of  it,"  came  in  a  snappish,  excited  man- 
ner from  the  indolent  Jones,  as  he  took  his  feet  hastily 
from  the  window  and  began  walking  the  floor.  "  I  shall 
have  none  of  your  little  feminine  fellows  about  me 
raising  a  dust  and  misplacing  my  papers.  JVo,  sir! 
Besides  that  I  have  helped  enough  of  those  upstarts  to 
popularity,  and  what  thanks  have  I  ever  got  for  it? 
What  credit  do  you  give  me  for  the  influence  my  pres- 
ence in  this  office  has  had  in  making  you  all  you  are — 
better  than  that  vanquished  sprig  across  the  way?  You, 
like  him,  would  have  had  to  draw  in  your  shingle  years 
ago  but  for  my  name,  as  an  honorable  and  experienced 
practitioner,  being  attached  to  it.  Say,  young  man,  why 
don't  you  speak?    Do  you  reajize  it?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Sanford — knowing  that  to  bandy 
words  with  his  unreasonable  partner  was  worse  than 
vain — ^'  1  fully  realize  all  there  is  to  realize." 

If  there  was  sarcasm  in  his  remark  his  partner  failed 
to  notice  it  as  it  was  followed  by  the  remark  that  "per- 
haps the  young  lawyer  referred  to  had  gone  into  the 
army,  as  doubtless  he  is  loyal  to  his  country." 


272  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW   VORK  SOCIETY; 

^^Pity,"  retorted  Jones,  "that  a  few  more  of  the 
worthless  fellows  do  not  follow  his  example,  if  he  has 
gone.  We  could  well  afford  to  have  a  great  number  of 
them  shot,  and  any  man  who  is  fool  enough  to  go  at  old 
Lincoln's  call  ought  to  be  shot  dead  in  the  first  battle; 
and  I  hope  that,  or  a  worse  fate,  will  befall  every  mother's 
son  of  them." 

*'Hold!"  said  Sanford,  as  with  excitement  in  voice 
and  limb,  lie  sprang  from  his  chair  and  stood  in  front 
of  the  cringing  coward;  ''no  man  shall  utter  such  words 
in  my  ofBce.  I  have  and  might  have  still  continued  to 
tolerate  a  gambler,  but  a  traitor^  never!  and  were  it  not 
for  your  gray  hairs  you  would  not  receive  the  mercy 
they  demand  at  my  hands." 

Sanford  had  been  working  in  a  quiet  way  for  some 
time  to  get  rid  of  his  partner,  who  was  proving  a  great 
detriment  to  his  success  by  his  frequent  disloyal  utter- 
ances and  his  growing  immoral  habits,  and  was  in  hopes 
that  in  the  heat  of  his  sudden  anger  he  would  sever  his 
connection  with  the  firm,  and  forthwith  started  out  in 
hopes  of  finding  and  securing  the  young  man  as  a  future 
partner,  but  his  efforts  to  find  him  were  fruitless.  Mr. 
Bartlett  was  greatly  surprised  to  learn  that  he  had 
given  up  his  ofiice.  He  had  thought  he  had  been  getting 
on  nicely,  and  spoke  of  him  in  the  highest  terms,  as  one 
in  a  fair  way  to  gain  the  top  round  of  the  professional 
ladder.  But  he,  with  many  others,  had  heard  and 
obeyed  his  country's  call — his  loyal  heart  bade  adieu  to 
ambition's  highest  aspirations,  and  all  else  was  forgotten 
save  ''  My  country  is  in  peril." 


CHAPTER  XX. 


AN  UNEXPECTED  GUEST  AT  BROADTOP. 

Mrs.  Geddiz  was  afflicted  with  a  nervous  headache, 
and  was  thereby  prevented  taking  her  weekly  trip  with 
her  husband  to  tlie  village.  It  was  now  some  five  years 
since  the  Morris  family  had  taken  their  sudden  flight 
from  the  neighborhood,  and  as  nothing  had  since  been 
heard  of  them,  the  gossip  concerning  them  had  become 
a  thing  of  the  past,  and,  excepting  when  at  long  inter- 
vals there  would  come  to  Mrs.  Geddiz  a  night  of 
restless  tossing  and  wakefulness,  would  she  think  of  her 
interest  in,  and  experience  with  the  child,  and  then  she 
would  grow  more  restless  as  she  conjectured  what  her 
fate  might  be;  but  as  she  had  herself  seen  nothing  in 
Mrs.  Morris  to  indicate  that  she  was  other  than  a  quiet, 
kind-hearted  woman,  she  gave  but  little  credit  to  the 
contrary  version  of  her  character  set  afloat  by  Mrs. 
Barkins. 

"  Susan,"  she  said,  as  she  was  sitting  in  the  open 
doorway  waiting  the  return  of  her  husband,  while  Susan 
was  standing  at  her  back  '^rubbing  her  headache  away," 
"  I  wish,  some  day  when  you  have  time,  you  would 
write  a  letter  for  me,  seein'  as  my  hands  are  so  clumsy 
like.  I  really  would  like  to  hear  from  Ned  and  Cristine 
Baldwin  once  again.  You  know  we  all  felt  kind  o'hurt 
about  the  way  Cristine  acted  and  about  that  dispatch, 

273 


274  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

and  I  didn't  keer  much  if  I  never  did  hear  from  them 
agin.  Somehow  or  another  I  am  gettin'  over  tha^ 
feelin'  a  little,  but  not  enough  to  want  Cristine  to  ever 
come  to  my  house,  for  I  couldn't  treat  her  well  if  she 
did,  and  I  believe  our  'Lijah  was  about  right  when  he 
said  she  was  not  a  bit  sick,  but  jist  let  on  she  was,  so  to 
git  clear  of  going  out  with  me.  She  is  so  proud  and 
stuck-up  like,  and  then  that  dispatch — you  know  I 
didn't  know  what  a  real  dispatch  looked  like.  I  am  glad 
I  brought  it  home  so  we  found  them  out." 

Just  at  this  moment  Mr.  Geddiz  drove  into  the  yard, 
and,  holding  up  a  small  white  envelope,  cried  out  in  his 
jovial  way : 

"  See  here.  Mother,  I've  got  something  that  will  cure 
your  headache — a  letter  from  New  York,  perhaps  from 
the  Morris  family  or  some  one  who  knows  something 
about  them." 

"  Run  and  get  it,  Jonathan,"  she  said  to  her  grand- 
son, who  was  putting  a  bridle  on  his  pet  goat. 

The  letter  was  soon  in  her  possession,  and  after  search- 
ing  in  vain  through  her  spacious  pocket  for  her  specta- 
cles, she  said,  Here,  Susan,  you  read  it,  quick!  I  can't 
find  my  specs." 

Susan  broke  the  seal  and  began  reading  the  sprawling 
fine  hand  as  best  she  could. 

"New  York  City,  June  3, 18—. 
"Jfi/  Very  Bear  Uncle  and  Aunt: 

"  I  have  been  at  a  loss  to  know  why  you  have  not  answered  some 
of  my  many  letters  to  you  since  you  were  here.  Perhaps  you 
never  got  them— the  mails  are  so  unreliable  in  the  country.  I  do 
want  to  see  your  dear  faces  once  more,  but  as  I  cai|not  ask  you  to 
come  and  see  me,  as  I  have  no  home  now,  I  want  to  know  if  I  can 
come  and  stay  a  few  weeks  with  you.   You  see,  after  Ned  died 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


275 


(which  is  five  years  ago  the  last  of  this  month),  the  ones  who  had 
always  been  my  friends  turned  against  me  and  forged  bills  for 
thousands  of  dollars,  and  had  the  brazen  impudence  to  say  that 
they  were  contracted  by  myself  and  my  poor  dead  Nellie.  One 
forged  a  mortgage  on  the  house  and  another  on  the  farm,  and  as  I 
had  not  the  means  to  carry  on  a  suit,  had  to  let  them  both  go,  but 
I  got  to  stay  one  year  in  the  house.  Ned  was  such  a  careless  man 
— didn't  know  one-half  as  much  about  business  as  I  do — or  his 
affairs  never  would  have  got  in  such  a  condition,  and  I  was  obliged 
to  sell  off  everything  in  the  house  at  a  great  sacrifice,  and  for  the 
past  year  have  been  living  with  Ned's  sister,  Mrs.  Merrill,  at  Mt. 
Auburn,  Cincinnati.  You  remember  their  daughter  Minnie.  She 
married  three  years  ago  and  moved  to  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  and 
she  wanted  them  to  come  and  stay  a  year  with  her,  so  they  put  a 
family  in  the  house  and  left  me  to  oversee  things.  The  family 
proved  very  disagreeable  and  I  left  the  last  of  April,  just  three 
weeks  after  the  Merrills  left.  I  have  been  out  on  the  farm  that 
was  Ned's  father's  since  then.  You  see  they  couldn't  take  that, 
for  it  was  left  to  Ned's  sister  Helen  or  her  heirs,  if  ever  found,  and 
if  not,  then  it,  with  several  thousand  dollars  which  has  been 
squandered,  was  to  have  gone  to  our  Nellie.  But,  poor  child !  she 
found  a  grave  in  a  strange  land,  and  she  will  never  need  it,  and 
the  family  to  whom  Mrs.  Merrill  has  let  it  (as  she  is  the  one  who 
controls  it  since  Ned's  death),  are  low,  ill-bred  people,  and  to 
remain  there  is  very  unpleasant  for  one  with  such  poor  health  and 
sensitive  nerves  as  I  have,  and  so  I  thought  of  your  pleasant  home 
and  dear  faces,  and  how  restful  it  would  be  to  be  with  such  dear 
good  friends  for  a  little  while.  Write  by  return  mail  if  you  still 
livf>  and  will  make  your  loving  niece  welcome. 

"  As  ever, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  Ckistine  Baldwin." 

During  the  reading  of  this  letter  Mrs.  Geddiz  made 
many  interruptions,  and  ejaculations  of  unbounded  sur- 
prise were  indulged  in  when  the  portions  of  it  were  read 
which  conveyed  the  first  tidings  to  them  of  Mr.  Bald- 
win's and  Nellie's  death  and  the  loss  of  the  elegant 
home.    When  Mr.  Geddiz  and  'Lijah  came  in  from  put- 


276  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

ting  0ut  the  horse,  Mrs.  Geddiz,  in  her  excitement,  cried 
out: 

"Stop  right  still!  Do  not  take  another  step  till  yon 
hear  this  letter  from  Cristine  Baldwin.  Now,  Susan, 
read  it  to  them." 

But  for  Susan's  life  she  could  not  get  two  lines  read 
before  the  old  lady's  glib  tongue  had  it  told  in  advance, 
breaking  in  about  every  third  line  and  hastening  on  as 
far  as  memory  would  carry  her,  making  many  mistakes 
in  her  haste  to  be  first  to  tell  the  news,  while'  the  good- 
natured  Sus^n  would  stop  until  she  got  to  the  end  when 
she  would  take  up  the  thread  and  give  her  a  fresh 
start.  "Yes,"  she  exclaimed,  "what  do  you  think;  she 
says  she  wants  to  see  our  dear  faces  once  more  agin; 
and  there  is  a  low-bred  family  ill  on  the  farm ;  and  her 
nerves  are  so  weak  she  can't  stay  there  any  longer;  and 
she  said  everybody  turned  against  her  after  Ned  died; 
and  they  got  out  a  lot  of  some  kind  of  bills  about  her 
and  Nellie,  and  she  just  had  to  give  them  everything 
she  had  to  keep  peace,  and  she  says  she  has  wrote  lots  of 
times,  but  she  says  the  men  on  the  farm  are  so  unreli- 
able, she  'sposes  I  never  got  them.  Say,  did  either  of 
you'ns  ever  get  any  and  didn't  give  them  to  me?" 

After  the  letter  was  all  read  and  told,  there  was 
silence  for  at  least  five  minutes,  each  one  busy  with 
their  own  thoughts.  At  length  Mr.  Geddiz  broke  the 
silence  by  saying  in  a  musing  way: 

"And  so  Ned  and  Nellie  are  both  dead — been  dead 
five  years.  Well,  well;  God's  ways  are  mysterious  and 
we  just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is." 

"  Yes,"  said  his  wife  drawing  a  long  breath  and 
wiping  a  tear  with  the  corner  of  her  apron.    "  It  seems 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


277 


kind  o^  hard  after  all  for  Cristine  to  have  so  much  trouble 
and  then  lose  her  nice  home  inter  the.  bargain,  and  be 
dependent  on  her  relations  all  the  rest  of  her  life,  and  I 
was  just  thinkin'  as  the  good  Lord  has  prospered  us, 
and  we've  everything  kind  of  comfortable  like,  that  we 
had  better  let  by-gones  be  by-gones  and  have  her  come 
and  stay  with  us  awhile.  She  seems  to  kind  o'  fall  back 
on  us  like,  jist  as  if  she  felt  we  were  a  little  nearer  to 
her  than  anybody  else,  and  I  'spose  we  are.  She  was 
always  pleasant  like,  and  seemed  to  think  everything  of 
us  when  she  was  here  summers,  and  I  think  'twas  mor'n 
half  that  man  McClellan's  fault  that  she  acted  as  she  did 
that  winter  when  I  was  there." 

So  after  discussing  the  good  qualities  of  "  poor  Ned  " 
and  trying  to  excuse  Cristine's  many  faults,  they  decided 
that  the  next  day's  mail  should  carry  a  letter  of  invitation 
to  Cristine  to  come  and  stay  with  them  just  as  long  as  she 
could  be  contented.  They  then  retired  to  rest,  as  Mrs. 
Geddiz  said,  So  to  git  an  early  start,  for  the  spare- 
room  must  be  put  in  order,  some  fruit-cake  baked,  and 
various  little  nick-nacks  made  for  which  they  themselves 
cared  but  little,  but  then  Cristine  was  delicate  like,  and 
must  have  things  to  eat  kinder  like  she's  used  to  up  in 
New  York;  but,"  she  added,  with  emphasis,  "I  shall 
not  indulge  her  in  wine  and  brandy — I  do  not  want  it 
round  temptin'  little  Jonathan — and  if  she  has  it  of  her 
own,  (which  is  not  a  bit  likely,  as  her  money  must  be  a 
leetle  scarce  nowadays),  she  can  drink  it  in  her  own 
room,"  and  with  these  remarks  she  nestled  her  head  in 
the  pillow  and  was  soon  lost  m  sleep. 

"Hello!  there,  hello!  I  say.  Is  anybody  at  home  in 
there?"  was  the  loud  call  which  roused  the  entire  Ged- 


278  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

diz  family  about  twelve  o'clock  that  night.  'Lijah,  being 
the  first  to  get  his  head  out  of  the  window,  answered  by 
saying,  "All  right;  who's  there?" 

"It's  me,  cousin  'Lijah,"  came  in  a  little  piping  voice 
accompanied  by  a  whimpering  laugh. 

"Well,  I  suppose  it  is;  but  who  is  me,"  said  'Lijah, 
as  he  strode  out,  putting  on  part  of  his  clothing  as  he 
walked  up  to  the  carriage. 

"  It's  your  cousin,  Cristine  Baldwin,  of  Cincinnati, 
formerly  of  New  York  City.  How  are  all  the  folks?" 
she  asked,  as  she  kissed  the  young  man,  whose  crimson 
blushes  were  not  seen  in  the  darkness,  but  whose  con- 
fusion might  have  been  noticed  in  his  stammering  voice 
as  he  said: 

"  Go  right  along  into  the  house.  You  will  find  the 
folks  all  up,  and  I  will  stay  and  help  turn  out  this 
team.'' 

"  No,"  said  the  driver,  "  I'll  not  turn  out.  Just  tell 
me  where  I  can  get  some  water  and  I  will  go  right 
back." 

Three  large  trunks  and  two  satchels  were  carried  in 
by  the  two  men,  but  the  man  seemed  in  no  haste  to  start 
back,  and  'Lijah  concluded  he  was  giving  the  horses  a 
little  breathing  spell,  and  asked  him  to  walk  in  and  have 
a  seat,  or  wait  and  have  something  to  eat,  as  he  had 
driven  a  long  way.  But  no,  he  must  be  getting  back. 
At  length  he  ventured  to  ask: 

"Who  is  to  foot  the  bill?  It's  only  ten  dollars.  I 
agreed  to  fetch  her  for  that,  or  I'll  be  hanged  if  I 
wouldn't  charge  her  twenty.  It's  worth  every  dollar  of 
it  to  pull  over  them  all-fired  big  hilll,  with  such  a  load 
of  baggage." 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


279 


"  I  will  go  and  ask  her  to  come  to  the  door,"  said 
'Lijah. 

"  No,  you  needn't,  if  yon  have  the  change  by  you.  She 
said  you  would  settle  it,  and  she  would  make  it  right 
with  you,  as  she  had  no  small  bills." 

'Lijah  walked  to  where  the  light  of  the  window  would 
enable  him  to  see,  and,  taking  the  amount  from  his 
purse,  handed  it  to  the  man  who  was,  soon  after,  on  his 
way  back  to  Nesley's  Station. 

It  was  near  tlie  time  when  they  were  in  the  habit  of 
rising  before  the  women  were  ready  to  retire,  the  men 
having  done  so  as  soon  as  the  trunks  were  stowed  away 
in  the  spare  chamber.  Mrs.  Baldwin  begged  the  privi- 
lege of  keeping  her  room  as  long  as  she  chose  in  the 
morning,  which  was  a  happy  relief  to  her  Aunt  and 
Susan,  as  it  would  afford  them  an  opportunity  for  setting 
things  to  rights. 

Weeks  glided  into  months,  and  the  months  numbered 
twice  twelve,  and  still  Cristine  Baldwin  was  a  guest  at 
Broadtop,  and  never  once  had  she  uttered  a  word  about 
returning  to  Cincinnati,  notwithstanding  Mrs.  Merrill 
had  given  her  notice  of  their  return  a  full  year  before; 
and  to.  have  looked  upon  her  as  she  sailed  majestically 
through  the  farm-house  making  known  her  many  wants, 
one  would  have  thought  her  content  in  the  highest 
degree.  And,  why  not?  She  had  not  a  whim  in  which 
she  was  not  indulged;  all  her  peculiarities  and  faults 
were  lost  sight  of,  and  nothing  but  the  sorrow  through 
which  she  had  passed  seemed  to  be  remembered  by  the 
family.  One  bright  day,  in  the  third  autumn  of  her 
stay,  she,  with  little  Jonathan  were  going  out  for  a 
drive,  when  she  conceived  the  idea  that  'Lijah's  young 


280  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

horse  would  get  over  more  ground  in  a  shorter  space  of 
time  than  old  Nell,  who,  having  been  ''old  Nell"  for 
so  many  years,  was  not  as  spry  as  when  she  took  that 
long  night  chase  several  years  before.  For  once  'Lijah 
remonstrated,  but  she  at  last  conquered,  and  away  they 
went,  as  delighted  as  two  children,  but  their  delight  was 
doomed,  however,  to  be  short-lived,  for  when  but  a  few 
miles  away  from  home  a  piece  of  paper  blowing  about 
in  the  road  startled  the  horse.  This  fright,  however, 
was  partially  overcome  when  they  met  a  Daguerian  car. 
This  was  too  much  for  the  spirited  steed,  and  he  gave 
one  plunge  forward  and  dashed  away  at  full  speed.  For 
a  time  Jonathan  managed  to  keep  on  the  road,  and 
might  have  eventually  checked  him,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  wild  shrieks  of  Mrs.  Baldwin  and  her  spasmodic 
jerking  and  clutching  of  the  lines.  She  seeing  a  deep 
gully  ahead,  knew  that  death  was  almost  inevitable, 
resolved  to  make  a  desperate  attempt  to  save  herself. 
She  attempted  to  spring  to  the  ground,  and  in  doing  so 
her  foot  caught  in  the  wheel,  and  she  was  dragged  with 
frightful  speed  over  the  rough  lime-stones,  with  which 
the  road  abounded,  and  when  picked  up  a  few  momei^ts 
later  by  two  men  in  a  passing  wagon  she  was  insensible 
and  horribly  mangled.  Going  through  the  gully  the 
harness  gave  way  and  freed  the  horse,  upsetting  the 
buggy  by  the  sudden  stopping,  while  little  Jonathan 
rolled  out  unharmed.  Feeling  more  concerned  about 
Mrs.  Baldwin's  condition  than  of  the  fleeing  horse,  he 
ran  back,  coming  up  just  as  the  men  were  getting  her 
injured  form  into  the  wagon.  He  gave  directions  where 
to  take  her,  and  then  began  chafing  her  hands  and  face 
and  with  his  handkerchief  bound  up  her  bruised  head, 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  281 

and  while  the  great  tears  rolled  down  his  boyish  cheeks, 
he  said: 

"  Poor,  dear  Aunty,  if  we  had  only  minded  father  this 
would  not  have  happened." 

At  length,  as  they  were  nearing  home,  he  exclaimed 
with  excitement: 

Oh,  she  isn't  dead!  She  has  opened  her  eyes,  and  is 
looking  right  at  me." 

The  men,  after  working  with  her  for  a  time,  concluded 
that  life  w^as  extiiict,  had  given  up  their  efforts  and  were 
discussing  the  sad  affair,  but  upon  hearing  Jonathan's 
rejoicings,  they  stopped  and  renewed  their  efforts  to 
recusitate  her,  and  by  the  time  they  reached  home  she 
was  partially  conscious,  but  made  no  attempt  to  speak 
or  move,  and  as  they  carried  her  limp  form  into  the 
house,  it  was  not  thought  she  could  live  an  hour.  "When 
the  Doctor  came  out  of  her  room  he  was  interrogated  by 
Mr.  Geddiz  as  to  the  extent  of  her  injuries.  He  shook 
his  head  and  said : 

"  Bad  case — bad  case — leg  broken  in  two  places;  collar 
bone  fractured,  and  there  is  no  telling  yet  how  bad  she 
is  injured  internally.  She  may  not  survive  the  setting 
of  the  broken  bones.  I  must  have  help;  send  for  Doctor 
Ilenings." 

After  a  consultation,  the  doctors,  on  the  third  day 
after  the  accident,  told  the  family  there  was  no  hope  of 
her  recovery;  and  yet  she  might  linger  for  several  days, 
but  that  her  internal  injuries  were  of  such  a  nature  . that 
death  from  them  was  inevitable. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  "  if  that  is  true  you  must 
tell  her,  for  I  never  can,  and  she  must  know  it,  for  I  do 
uot  think  she  is  prepared  to  meet  death; "  and  as  the 


282  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

first-called  Doctor,  who  was  a  class-leader  in  the  church 
at  which  Mrs.  Geddiz  was  a  member,  went  into  the 
room  to  perform  the  sad  task  imposed  upon  him,  Mr. 
Geddiz  turned  away  with  an  audible  groan,  saying,  "  It 
seems  kind  of  hard,  after  all,  doesn't  it.  Mother,  to 
have  her  die  in  this  way?" 

It  was  some  hours  after  the  doctor  told  Mrs.  Baldwin 
she  must  die  before  she  could  overcome  her  feelings 
enough  to  converse  upon  the  subject,  and  then  with 
great  difficulty,  as  the  least  over-exertion  would  bring 
on  hemorrhage  which  was  liable  to  terminate  in  death  at 
any  moment,  she  asked  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Geddiz  to  pray  for 
her — "  pray  that  that  one  great  sin  be  forgiven  me,  for 
at  last  I  am  compelled  to  throw  aside  the  mask  that  has 
hidden  my  heart  from  the  world  so  long."  She  had 
had  frequent  talks  with  her  Aunt  concerning  the  child 
Nellie.  She  had  wept  and  bemoaned  her  loss,  and  had 
told  of  her  undying  love  for  the  little  cherub."  It  is 
said  that  when  water  is  set  where  the  rays  of  the  ^un 
fall  full  upon  it  that  all  impurities  rise  to  the  surface,  so 
in  her  near  approach  to  death  with  the  light  of  eternity 
shining  full  upon  her  heart,  her  sins  came  before  her 
mental  vision  in  all  their  enormity.  She  knew  she  could 
not  deceive  the  Great  Judge  in  whose  presence  she  must 
soon  stand,  and  to  pray  herself  was  impossible  with  that 
great  weight  of  sin  resting  upon  her  heart,  and  she  con- 
fessed it  all  by  saying  It  was  /  that  caused  the  child 
Nellie  to  be  carried  away.  She  was  Helen's  child,  and 
I  let  Helen  suffer  and  die  near  me  without  offering 
assistance;  I  had  intercepted  her  letters  and  driven  her 
from  my  door,  fearing  that  my  husband,  her  brother, 
might  learn  of  her  presence  in  the  city,  as  you  know  they 


A  8T0RT  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


283 


had  regarded  her  as  dead  for  years,  and  in  case  she  was 
not  found  under  a  specified  length  of  time,  our  Nellie 
was  to  inherit  her  property.  I  was  avaricious  and 
wanted  it  for  Nellie.  Write  all  this  to  Mrs.  Merrill 
when  I  am  gone,  and  ask  her  to  forgive  me  as  I  trust 
God  will,  now  that  I  have  confessed  it;  but  I  could  pot 
pray  until  1  had — the  very  heavens  were  brass  and  my 
words  could  not  penetrate  them.  Now,  Aunty  dear, 
pray  for  me,  and  tell  me  over  again  all  that  Jesus  has 
said  to  sinners  like  me,"  and  ere  the  morning  light 
dawned  upon  the  suffering  woman  she  expressed  peace 
in  believing,  and  although  for  days  she  lingered  in 
intense  pain  the  end  came  at  last  and  she  went  out  to 
meet  the  untried  future.  Whether  she  paid  the  entire 
penalty  for  her  sins  in  those  weeks  of  excruciating  pain 
ot  both  body  and  mind,  is  not  for  you  and  I  to  know, 
reader,  until  we,  too,  have  passed  out  into  the  light 
which  shall  reveal  to  our  changed  visions  the  wondrous 
power  of  the  Father's  love. 


CHAPTER  XXL 


THE  LITTLE  WANDERER. 

It  happened  that  on  the  same  briglit  autumn  day  of 
the  fatal  accident  to  Mrs.  Baldwin  that,  through  a  range 
of  townships  on  what  is  known  as  the  Western  Reserve, 
in  Northeastern  Ohio,  a  little  girl  of  about  eleven  years 
of  age  was  traveling  wearily  along  the  dusty  highway 
carrying  a  small  bundle,  which  she  changed  frequently 
from  one  hand  to  the  other,  indicating,  as  did  her  travel - 
worn  shoes  and  skirts,  that  she  had  walked  a  long  way. 

"  Hold  on,  little  Miss!  Wouldn't  you  like  a  ride?" 

This  was  said  by  Mr.  Brockway,  who  was  returning 
from  W  ,  where  he  had  been  to  dispose  of  the  pro- 
ducts of  his  dairy.  It  was  said  in  such  a  kind,  fatherly 
way  that  there  was  no  hesitancy  on  the  part  of  the  little 
girl  to  accept  his  invitation,  and  her  weary  feet  seemed 
to  grow  nimble  as  she  climbed  into  the  wagon.  With 
a  timid  look,  and  almost  in  a  whisper,  she  said: 

"  Thank  you;  I  am  real  tired  and  it  will  be  so  nice 
to  ride." 

Mr.  Brockway  shook  the  dust  from  the  coarse  cushion 
and  lifted  her  into  the  high  seat  by  his  side,  and  then 
began  to  question  her.  She  entered  into  the  conversa- 
tion very  shyly  at  first,  but  gradually  gained  confidence 
in  both  herself  and  her  new  friend,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  they  were  on  quite  familiar  terms.  After  going 
a  few  miles  he  said: 

284 


A  STORY  OF  HEAL  LIFE. 


285 


"  You  won't  let  me  take  you  past  your  home,  will 
you?  Just  tell  me  when  you  want  to  get  out,  and  I'll 
stop." 

At  this  she  glanced  up  with  a  puzzled  look  into  his 
face  and  said: 

"  Where  do  you  live,  Mister?" 

"  O,  several  miles  farther  on,  out  this  road,"  he 
replied,  unfolding  his  paper  with  one  hand  and  glancing 
over  its  contents  with  apparent  indifference  to  the 
child's  question,  but  he  was  soon  interrupted  by  another 
question : 

"  Have  you  any  little  girls  at  your  house?" 

"  Yes,  we  have  two  little  granddaughters  whose  pa  is 
dead,  and  they,  with  their  mother,  live  with  us,  and  you 
must  come  and  get  acquainted  with  them.  Let  me  see," 
he  continued,  "  where  do  you  live,  and  whose  little  girl 
be  you?" 

With  these  questions  her  little  haggard,  pinched 
features  began  to  twitch  nervously,  and  in  a  moment 
more  her  bosom  heaved  w^ith  emotion,  and  she  broke  out 
into  pitiful  sobs,  which  touched  the  kind  old  farmer 
deeply,  and  he  said: 

What  did  I  say,  little  one,  to  cause  all  this  grief?" 

It  was  some  moments  before  she  could  answer,  ^nd 
when  she  looked  into  his  face  with  her  great,  mournful 
eyes  and  said  in  such  deep  mellow  tones  that  sounded 
to  the  old  man's  ears  like  the  strains  of  far-away  music, 
vibrating  and  revibrating  until  every  chord  of  love  and 
sympathy  in  his  soul  was  touched,  I  have  no  ho7ne — 
I  am  nobody's  little  girl." 

It  was  some  time  before  Mr.  Brockway  could  control 
his  emotions  sufficient  to  renew  the  subject. 


286  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

But  his  interest  and  curiosity  both  were  aroused,  and 
wher  a  little  later  she  said,  "  Hadn't  I  better  get  out 
now?"  he  replied: 

"  No,  no,  my  child,  not  until  we  get  to  my  house, 
where  you  can  stay  all  night  if  you  have  no  home  to  go 
to.  I  cannot  let  you  stay  on  the  roadside;  and  perhaps 
you  will  tell  us  all  about  yourself." 

"  I  can't  tell  you  very  much,"  she  said,  in  a  some- 
what more  cheerful  mood,  the  storm  in  her  mind  being 
over-passed  by  having  spent  its  force  in  the  paroxysm 
of  tears.  Seeing  she  was  little  inclined  to  talk,  Mr. 
Brockway  ventured  to  question  her  farther  by  asking: 

"How  does  all  this  come  about,  my  little  lass?  Where 
have  you  been  living  all  your  life?  Come,  can't  you  tell 
me  that." 

''Yes,  sir,  I  can,"  she  said,  nestling  uneasily  about  in 
her  seat.  "  I  don't  know  as  I  ever  lived  any  place  but 
to  Mr.  Morris',  and  they  lived  in  the  country,  not  very 
far  from  Wheeling.  There's  where  they  used  to  get 
their  letters,  and  tea,  and  coffee,  and  sugar,  and  whisky, 
too." 

"Then  they  drank  whisky,  did  they?"  said  Mr. 
Brockway. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  "  Papa  and  Mamma  both  used  to 
get  drunk  lots  of  times,  but  Papa  died  because  he  got 
drunk  so  much,  but  Mamma  drinks  just  as  much  as 
ever,  and  says  she  don't  care  if  it  kills  her,  too.  I 
wouldn't  drink  the  nasty  stuff,  would  you?"  and  a  look 
of  scorn  curled  about  her  little  sharp-pinched  nose." 

"  Ugh!  I  guess  not,"  the  man  replied,  with  a  shudder 
moi-e  real  than  feigned,  and  seeing  she  had  come  to  a 
full  stop,  with  a  far-away  look  in  her  eyes  as  if  living 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  287 

over  the  past  again,  he  said,  "Then  they  were  not  your 
real  pa  and  ma?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  replied,  as  if  realizing  she  nad  not 
made  that  plain.  When  1  was  a  wee,  little  bit  of  a  girl 
they  got  me  somewhere,  but  Mamma  says  she  never  did 
like  children  and  she  hated  me;  but  she  thought  she 
would  get  lots  of  money  if  she  kept  me;  but  she  didn't, 
and  that  made  her  mad,  and  she  used  to  pound  me  ever 
so  hard  when  she  would  drink  that  whisky;  and  I  used 
to  have  to  walk  all  the  way  to  Wheeling  to  get  it,  and 
sometimes  'twas  dark  all  the  way  back  home.  Papa 
never  beat  me — he  liked  me  some;  but  he  used  to  beat 
Mamma,  and  she  beat  him,  too;  and,  oh!  but  they  would 
swear  at  each  other,  and  I  was  so  'fraid  they'd  kill 
themselves;  and  when  Papa  died  Mamma  said  I'd  got 
to  go  away  and  get  somebody  to  take  me,  for  she 
wouldn't  keep  me — that  I  wasn't  her  child,  and  she 
didn't  know  whose  I  was,  and  that  my  name  wasn't 
Mama  Morris,  and  she  didn't  know  what  it  was." 

Here  she  broke  down  and  wept  again  at  the  thought 
of  having  no  name  she  could  call  her  own. 

No  wonder  the  kind  heart  of  Mr.  Brockway  was 
touched  as  it  had  seldom  been.  Angels  might  look 
with  pity  upon  so  sad  a  heart  as  that  of  the  little  home- 
less, nameless  waif,  out  alone  upon  the  great  ocean  of 
life  with  no  friendly  hand  to  guide,  no  loving  voice  to 
soothe;  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  she  should  hail  with 
joy  this  friendly  oasis  of  sympathy,  and  pour  out  her 
soul's  burden  upon  the  listening  ear  of  Mr.  Brockway, 
who,  after  a  time,  asked  her  if  she  loved  that  woman 
p,nd  how  she  came  to  leave  her  at  last. 

v"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  do  love  her.    I  have  nobody  else 


288  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

to  love,  and  I  have  so  much  love  growing  in  here,''  and 
she  laid  her  little  hand  upon  her  heart,  "  that  some  of  it 
has  got  to  go  somewhere,  or  I  shall  get  too  full  of  it," 
and  here  she  gave  a  merry  little  bird-like  laugh,  where- 
upon Mr.  Brockway  asked : 

"Did  she  finally  drive  you  away?" 

"  No,  she  didn't,  but  she  whipped  Wfid  scolded,  and 
said  I'd  got  to  go,  and  she  wouldn't  let  me  have  half  as 
much  to  eat  as  she  used  to,  and  we  were  always  hungry 
ever  since  I  can  remember.  Some  days  we  only  just 
had  one  potato  apiece,  and  then  Papa  and  Mamma 
would  smoke  and  drink  whisky  all  day,  and  at  nights 
they  would  iBght  until  I  was  afraid  they  would  kill  me. 
Mamma  did  used  to  say  she  would,  but  she  never  did; 
but  since  Papa  died  that  other  man  who  is  most  always 
there — his  name  is  Bob  Cole;  him  and  Mamma  are 
going  to  get  married — he  said  she  had  got  to  get  rid  of 
me  before  he  would  have  her,  and  I  was  in  bed  and  they 
thought  I  was  asleep  and  didn't  hear,  but  I  heard  her 
tell  him  that  she  had  tried  to  drive  me  away,  but  I 
wouldn't  go,  and  then  he  said : 

'''Never  mind,  just  let  her  stay  until  I  come  again 
and  I'll  fix  her.    I  will  get  her  out  of  the  w^ay.' 

"'What,'  said  Mamma  (she  wasn't  drunk  then),  'you 
wouldn't  kill  her,  would  you?'  and  he  said: 

"  '  Yes,  I  will,'  and  he  swore  ever  so  hard ;  '  I  would 
just  as  soon  kill  the  little  thing  as  I  would  a  rat.' 

"  When  he  went  away  and  Mamma  was  asleep,  I  got 
up  and  took  my  things.  I  only  had  a  few,  and  I  ran 
just  as  fast  as  I  could  till  I  got  most  to  Wheeling;  then 
I  laid  down  under  some  bushes  and  slept  till  it  was  real 
light;  and  when  I  woke  up  and  thought  of  Mamma  1 


A  STORY  OF  REAI.  LIFE. 


289 


cried  and  wanted  to  go  back  home,  but  I  was  afraid  of 
that  man,  and  so  I  went  into  Wheeling  and  got  into  a 
street  car  that  was  going  over  to  Bridgeport,  but  the 
man  that  drives  the  horses  said  that  if  I  hadn't  any 
money  I  must  get  out,  but  another  man  gave  me  ten 
cents,  and  when  I  got  over  there  I  didn't  know  what 
way  to  go.  You  see,  I  had  to  go  either  up  or  down  the 
river,  or  back  to  Wheeling — for  there  are  great  hills 
covered  with  trees  and  bushes  on  the  other  side — but  I 
felt  as  if  I  had  better  go  up  tlie  river;  and  just  then  a 
man  came  along  with  his  things  to  dig  coal  with,  who 
said  I  looked  hungry,  and  if  I  would  go  with  him  he 
would  take  me  to  his  sister's  and  she  would  give  me 
some  breakfast.  His  sister  was  a  real  nice  woman  and 
gave  me  a  good  breakfast,  but  they  were  real  poor  I 
guess,  and  had  ever  so  many  little  girls  and  boys,  so  I 
didn't  ask  them  to  let  me  stay;  and  then  I  went  on  and 
on  ever  so  far,  and  I  got  so  tired  and  hungry  and  most 
sick,  so  I  went  into  a  little  house  just  across  the  street 
from  the  river,  and  they  let  me  stay  all  night  and  sleep 
with  their  little  girl." 

[Right  here  we  add  an  item  of  interest  to  the  reader 
in  that  vicinity:  That  house,  with  that  same  little  girl 
grown  to  womanhood,  and  the  mother  of  three  interest- 
ing children,  was  swept  away  during  the  terrible  freshet 
in  the  spring  of  18 — ,  her  husband  alone  surviving. 
The  mother  was  found  days  afterward  in  a  mass  of 
driftwood,  with  her  babe  clasped  to  her  lifeless  breast. 
A  lovely  little  girl  was  washed  ashore  miles  below.] 

She  wasn't  near  so  big  as  I  am,  and  she  sang  such 
sweet  songs  about  Jesus,  and  she  learned  me  to  pray. 
Mamma  never  learned  me  that,  but  then  I  used  to  talk 

19 


290  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

to  God  while  I  was  making  the  baskets  that  I  sold  on 
the  streets  in  "Wheeling  to  buy  Marnma  whisky  and 
things.  When  I  left  that  house  the  little  girl  gave  me 
a  little  Bible,  and  her  mamma  gave  me  a  clean  apron 
and  put  up  lots  of  dinner  for  me,  and  she  said  she 
wished  they  were  able  to  keep  me.  She  said  she  would 
pray  that  God  would  lead  me  to  a  good  home,  and  she 
is  such  a  good  woman  I  guess  He  will  do  what  she  asks 
Him  to,  don't  you  ?"  and  she  looked  up  inquiringly  into 
the  old  gentleman's  face. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "  I  think  He  will." 

Mania  Morris,  as  for  the  present  we  must  call  her, 
was  old  in  some  experiences  far  beyond  her  years  ;  and 
in  other  respects  she  was  as  innocent  as  a  babe.  She 
was  small,  with  a  pinched,  half-starved  look,  and  her 
sun-browned  skin  clinging  to  the  bone,  yet  there  was  a 
wondrous  light  of  intelligence  and  affection  in  her 
bright  blue  eyes,  making  her  an  interesting  study  for 
the  old  farmer,  who  scarcely  turned  his  eyes  from  her 
face  during  the  whole  of  this  conversation.  The  pathos 
of  her  voice,  melting  and  remodeling  the  coarse,  harsh 
words  of  Mrs.  Morris  and  Bob  Cole,  until  they  fell 
with  a  degree  of  softness  upon  the  listener's  ear,  as  she 
continued: 

"  It  is  fourteen  days  to-night  since  I  left,  and  I  haven't 
found  any  one  yet  that  wanted  a  little  girl.  Some  peo- 
ple said  they  guessed  I  was  a  bad  little  girl,  and  that 
Mrs.  Morris  couldn't  do  anything  with  me,  and  they 
didn't  want  such  a  girl ;  and  some  others  said  they 
guessed  I  told  stories,  and  made  me  go  away  for  fear  I'd 
steal  their  children's  things;  and  one  woman  was  so 
cross  she  said  she  would  -set  the  dog  on  me  if  I  didn't 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


291 


go  out  of  lier  yard.  Another  place  they  gave  me  some 
supper,  and  I  asked  them  if  I  might  stay  all  night. 
There  were  two  women,  and  I  heard  one  of  them  say, 
*  We  won't  keep  lier,  for  maybe  she  belongs  to  the  gang 
of  thieves  that  are  about,  and  she  might  let  them  into 
the  house;'  and  so  she  came  in  and  told  me  they  could 
not  keep  me,  for  they  had  so  many  big  men  to  sleep 
there.  That  night  I  slept  out  doors,  close  up  to  a  fence, 
by  a  pretty  white  cow,  and  I  wasn't  a  bit  afraid  and 
wasn't  lonesome,  for  she  acted  as  if  she  loved  me." 

"  Have  you  traveled  alone,  all  this  time  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Brockway,  feeling  that  he  was  realizing  the  truth  of 
that  trite  saying,  "  Truth  is  stranger  than  fiction."  He 
did  not  doubt  the  truth  of  every  word,  as  it  came  with 
such  innocent  earnestness  from  the  little  quivering  lips. 

"  No,  sir,  I  had  company  for  two  nights  and  three 
days;  but  last  night  I  got  afraid  of  her,  and  when  she 
went  to  sleep  I  ran  away.  She  was  a  great,  tall,  black 
woman,  and  oh,"  she  said,  laughing  heartily,  ''you 
just  ought  to  see  her.  She  wears  five  bonnets,  piled  up 
one  on  top  of  the  other,  and  carries  a  bundle  as  big  as 
ever  so  many  of  mine." 

Here  she  broke  suddenly  off  with  a  whole  volley  of 
exclamations  and  questions: 

''Oh!  what  is  this?  Is  it  a  city?  How  pretty  and 
clean  it  is?    Do  you  live  in  this  little  baby  city?" 

Mr.  Brockway  informed  her  that  it  was  what  they 
called  the  Center,  and  explained  it  fully  to  her  satisfac- 
tion. By  this  time  they  had  passed  by  the  store,  post- 
office,  blacksmith-shop,  and  the  few  dwelling-houses 
composing  the  little  city,  and  she  resumed  the  story  of 
her  strange  traveling  companion,  by  saying:  "Her 


292  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

name  is  Hannah  Mines,  and  everybody  seems  to  know 
her.  The  woman  that  gave  us  some  dinner  one  day  told 
me  her  name,  and  said  she  went  from  New  Lizabeth 
town  to  Painesville,  two  or  three  times  every  summer." 

"I  guess  you  mean  New  Lisbon,  don't  you?"  said 
Mr.  Brockway. 

Yes,  I  guess  that  is  it;  something  of  that  kind. 
She  just  kept  me  digging  and  digging  in  the  road  and 
over  in  the  fields— said  her  little  Johnny  had  run  away, 
and  his  master  had  caught  him  and  buried  him  alive, 
and  that  he  was  running  around  under  the  ground  try- 
ing to  find  a  place  to  get  out,  and  she  made  me  dig  to 
get  him  out,  and  when  I  got  tired  and  wanted  to  stop, 
she  looked  at  me  so  awful  hard,  and  her  great  big,  black 
eyes  got  fairly  red,  and  I  was  afraid  she  would  hurt  me; 
so  when  she  went  to  sleep  I  ran  away.  I'd  rather  go 
alone  the  rest  of  the  way,"  and  then,  as  if  thinking 
where  the  rest  of  the  way  would  lead  to,  and  how  long 
this  wearing  tramping  life  would  last,  she  took  up  that 
sad,  far-away,  dreamy  look.  Just  at  this  moment  the 
farmer  turned  in  to  an  open  gate,  and  drove  up  close  to 
a  porch  in  the  rear  of  a  neat  white  frame  house,  with 
its  fresh  paint  and  bright  green  blinds;  its  well-kept 
yard,  with  its  long  table  full  of  bright  tin  milk  pans, 
glittering  in  the  setting  sun.  The  child  felt  as  if  she 
had  arrived  at  a  king's  palace,  and  she  exclaimed:  ''Oh! 
how  nice!    Is  this  your  home?" 

''  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Brockway,  as  he  lifted  her  from  the 
wagon  to  the  porch,  "  this  is  my  home  and  yours,  too, 
till  you  get  a  better  one." 

The  two  little  granddaughters  upon  hearing  the 
tramp  of  the  horses'  feet,  ran  out,  crying  joyously: 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


293 


'^O  Grandpa,  Grandpapa's  come,"  but  upon  seeing  a 
strange  child  with  him  ran  back  to  inform  Grandma  of 
the  new  arrival.  She's  such  a  queer-looking  little  girl. 
Do  come  and  see  her." 

A  moment  later  Mrs.  Brockway,  with  a  little  girl 
clinging  to  either  hand,  made  her  appearance  on  the 
"  stoop." 

^'Well,  Abner,  you've  got  back,  have  you?  "  said  she, 
— her  sunny  face  telling  of  a  great,  warm  heart  within 
— "  and  who  is  this  you  have  with  you?  " 

"O,  that's  a  little  waif  I  picked  up  on  the  road  a  few 
miles  back.  Wash  her  up  and  give  her  a  bow^l  of  bread 
and  milk  and  put  her  right  to  bed.  She  is  tired  to  death, 
and  I'll  explain  when  I  get  my  chores  done;"  and  he 
hurried  away  to  the  barn. 

Mrs.  Brockway  took  the  little  girl's  hand  and  said  in 
her  good-natured  way: 

''Whose  little  girl  be  you,  anyway?" 

"Yours,  if  anybody's,"  said  Marna  in  almost  a  whis. 
per,  dropping  her  head  and  looking  as  if  she  never  could 
rally  the  courage  to  go  in  w^here  everything  looked  so 
neat — so  unlike  anything  she  had  ever  known  before. 
She  glanced  timidly  at  the  clean  w^hite  aprons  of  the 
little  girls,  and  then  dow^n  at  her  own  faded,  dusty 
clothes,  and  perhaps  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she 
realized  that  she  had  not  lived  just  as  other  folks  do, 
Mrs.  Brockway  kept  talking  away  while  laying  up  her 
bundle  and  bonnet,  while  Nina,  the  elder  of  the  little 
girls,  came  with  a  dish  of  water  and  towel,  and  the  tiny 
little  Julia  came  trudging  along  with  w^ash-cloth  and 
soap,  doing  homage  to  the  little  stranger  until  she  felt 
that  her  welcome  was  complete.    Then  came  the  bowl 


294  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

of  bread  and  milk,  and  then  slie  was  robed  in  one  of  the 
children's  clean,  white  nightgowns  and  tucked  away  in 
the  cleanest,  softest  bed  that  her  little  form  had  rested 
upon  since  the  years  that  she  remembered  not.  That 
night  she  dreamed  she  was  in  heaven,  and  had  found  a 
dear  mother  all  her  own,  and  for  months,  yea,  for  all  her 
after  life,  memory  treasured  through  the  bright  days 
and  the  dark  ones  the  hallowed  influence  of  that  dream. 

The  family  were  up  to  a  later  hour  than  usual  that 
night,  each  being  deeply  interested  in  the  history  of  the 
child  as  given  by  Mr.  Brockway.    At  its  conclusion 
Mrs.  Brockway  sat  for  some  time  absorbed  in  thought, 
and  then  she  said : 

"Abner,  I  have  hit  upon  a  plan.  I  want  to  go  and 
visit  Mrs.  Lewis  some  time  soon,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  she  w^ould  take  that  child.  She  has  been  wanting 
some  one  for  a  companion  for  Mildred — to  read  to  her 
and  guide  her  in  their  walks  through  the  grounds.  You 
remember  they  took  her  home  from  Willoughby  where 
she  had  been  attending  school,  on  account  of  some  trouble 
she  had  with  her  eyes,  and  I  heard  last  week  that  she 
^lad  gone  stark  blind,  and  the  doctors  say  she  will  never 
recover  her  sight,  and  as  Mrs.  Lewis'  health  is  poor,  I 
should  think  she  would  need  some  one,  unless  she  has 
gone  into  Cleveland,  as  she  thought  of  doing,  and  taking 
one  from  the  Orphanage.  I  want  to  see  her  at  any  rate, 
and  there'll  be  no  harm  done  in  going." 

"  Well,"  replied  her  husband,  "if  that  is  the  case, 
don't  you  think  the  sooner  we  go  the  better?  How  will 
it  do  to  go  Saturday?    This  is  Wednesday." 

"  That  will  not  give  us  time  enough,"  replied  Mrs. 
Brockway,  "  to  get  her  fixed  up.    It  would  not  do  to 


A  STOOY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


295 


take  her  there  looking -shabby,  unless,"  she  added, 
"Nina's  clothes  will  fit  her;  if  so,  we  can  let  her  have 
a  couple  of  suits,  and  we  can  make  new  ones  for  Nina 
afterward." 

It  was  ascertained  the  following  morning  that  Nina's 
clothes  fitted  her  nicely,  and  her  appearance  was  so 
thoroughly  changed  when  attired  in  a  clean  calico  dress 
and  white  apron,  and  her  long  curls  tied  back  with  a 
blue  ribbon,  that  she  scarcely  recognized  herself. 

Saturday  morning  dawned  clear  and  bright,  and 
almost  with  its  earliest  rays  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brockway,  with 
Marna  Morris,  were  on  their  way  to  the  home  of  their 
friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lewis.  Mrs.  Brockway  soon 
learned  that  they  had  not  secured  a  companion  for  their 
daughter,  and  she  spoke  of  the  little  girl  they  had  with 
them.  They  were  greatly  interested  in  her  history,  and 
their  sympathies  were  at  once  enlisted  in  her  behalf. 
Especially  w^as  Mildred  delighted  when  her  parents 
decided  to  have  her  remain,  at  least,  until  they  should 
hear  from  Mrs.  Morris,  which  they  did  within  a  few 
weeks.  She  corroborated  the  child's  strange  story,  and 
said  that  she  had  no  interest  in  her  future,  and  knew 
nothing  of  her  history  prior  to  her  coming  into  her 
family,  adding  "  that  small  locket,  containing  pictures, 
which  she  has,  may  at  some  time  be  of  value,  as  the 
man  who  brought  her  to  me,  and  claimed  to  be  her 
father,  said  it  might  be  the  means  of  securing  a  fortune 
some  time." 

And  it  was  decided  that  she,  in  the  future,  should  be 
known  as  Marna  Lewis,  and  that  Oak  Grove  should  be 
her  future  home.  It  was  a  beautiful  country  seat  a  few 
miles  east  of  the  Forest  City,  and  in  this  quiet  retreat, 


296  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

with  its  pleasant  groves,  babbling  brooks,  its  birds  and 
flowers,  Marna  found  the  rest  for  which  her  little  soul 
had  long  yearned,  and  to  find  which  she  had  traveled, 
foot-sore  and  weary,  over  the  hills  and  through  the  val- 
leys of  the  most  dreary  portion  of  Ohio,  and  for  days  and 
weeks  her  heart  went  out  in  continued  thanksgiving  to 
God  for  having  answered  the  prayers  of  the  good  woman 
in  the  humble  home  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 


NEW  TRIALS. 

The  weeks  and  months,  full  of  peace  and  plenty,  suah 
as  Marna  had  never  before  known,  flew  quickly  by,  until 
they  numbered  years.  Teachers  had  been  employed  at 
Oak  Grove,  so  that  Milly,  the  blind  girl,  need  not  be 
deprived  of  her  companion  and  guide,  and  Marna's  won- 
derful aptitude  for  learning  was  surprising  to  Mrs. 
Lewis  as  also  to  her  teachers.  In  music,  both  vocal  and 
instrumental,  she  excelled;  that  voice,  so  full  of  sweet 
melody  and  pathos  in  conversation,  seemed  to  soar  away 
in  its  clear  strains  almost  beyond  the  reach  of  mortal 
ears,  and  then,  returning  with  its  mellow  cadence,  rest- 
ing down  upon  the  heart  with  a  halo  as  if  in  its  flight  it 
had  gathered  fragrance  from  the  dewy  flowers  which 
grew  by  the  crystal  stream,  and  hearts  stood  still  in 
their  sorrow  and  received  the  baptismal  balm. 

"  She  must  go  to  Europe."  "  That  voice  must  not  be 
lost  to  the  world."  ''It  is  a  heaven-born  talent  and  must 
be  cultivated."  These  and  numerous  other  remarks, 
both  by  teachers  and  admiring  friends,  were  not  lost  to 
Marna's  quick  ears,  and  like  little  seeds  strewn  by  the 
wayside  they  took  root  in  her  growing  ambition.  Like 
a  weary  pilgrim,  she  had  found  an  oasis  in  the  desert  of 
her  life,  and  as  the  sparkling  waters  Kppled  at  her  feet, 
she  longed  to  drink  until  her  ambition's  thirst  was  sated; 
and  she,  like  many  others,  found  it  hard  to  say  with 

297 


298  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

genuine  submission:  "  I  will  pitcli  my  tent  here  and  be 
content.  I  will  clip  the  wings  of  my  aspirations,  that 
they  may  not  soar  away  with  my  peace."  She  could  see 
that  duty  pointed  with  steady  finger. to  those  who  had 
opened  up  the  way  for  her  acquiring  an  education,  and 
the  development  of  her  hitherto  dwarfed  talents;  and 
fully  realizing  this,  she  became  in  a  degree  reconciled. 
And  yet  there  would  come  to  her,  ever  and  anon,  long- 
ings that  would  move  her  soul  from  its  rest,  and  nothing 
but  the  voice  of  Him  who  calmed  the  Sea  of  Galilee 
could  restore  its  serenity.  And  thus  were  battles  fre- 
quently fought  between  duty  and  ambition.  But  as 
time  rolled  on,  Marna  began  to  realize  that  "  the  purest 
grains  of  gold  are  hid  amid  the  baser  earth,  as  grains  of 
wheat  are  hid  amid  the  chaff,"  and  to  separate  them 
would  require  persistent  effort,  and  that  if  she  ever 
reached  the  acme  of  her  ambitious  desires,  she  must 
utilize  every  power  of  her  being;  every  hour  of  her  time; 
turning  all  of  her  faculties  into  one  channel,  and  with 
the  power  of  her  will  set  them  in  motion,  and  forthwith 
she  began  to  apply  herself  with  renewed  zeal  to  her 
studies,  and  she  was  not  long  in  learning  that  in  books 
and  Nature  around  her  was  living  and  stirring  the  true 
toswer  to  her  ambition's  call,  and  cultured  wisdom  came 
to  her  gradually;  and  instead  of  being  like  the  palm 
tree  of  Teilan  when  it  puts  forth  its  flowers,  bursting 
the  sheath  with  a  report  that  shakes  the  earth,  we  com- 
pare her  to  those  of  equal  beauty  and  fragrance  that 
open  in  the  morning,  and  the  very  dew-drops  hear  no 
so  and.  She  had  grown  away  from  that  dwarfish,  pinched, 
liMf-starved  looking  child  whom  Mr.  Brockway  had 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


299 


picked  up  on  the  roadside  years  before,  and  was  a  tall 
and  well-formed  girl,  with  tlie  tint  of  health  upon  her 
full,  round  cheeks.  The  haven  into  which  she  had 
steered  her  bark,  after  its  years  of  tossing  upon  the 
waves  of  poverty  and  degradation,  was  truly  a  delightful 
place  to  her.  Like  one  in  a  balloon,  the  higher  the 
ascent  the  smaller  the  objects  below  appear,  until  they 
are  lost  to  sight  in  the  distance,  so  with  those  dreary 
days  of  deprivation  and  cruelty  through  which  she  had 
passed;  and  only  at  long  intervals  would  memory  pause 
and  with  microscopic  view  look  upon  the  faded  frag- 
ments. 

But  a  cloud  w^as  rising  which  gave  indications  of  a 
coming  storm — a  storm  of  sorrow  to  the  household  at 
Oak  Grove. 

Mr.  Lewis,  with  his  fine,  robust  form,  was  gradually 
growing  less  robust,  his  hitherto  florid  complexion  was 
fast  taking  on  that  ashen  hue  known  by  medical  men  as 
the  sure  indication  of  fatal  disease,  and  he  was  ordered 
by  his  attending  physicians  to  try  the  balmy  air  of  the 
South  as  the  last  resort.  But  he  could  not  go  alone, 
and  his  invalid  wife  feeling  her  strength  gradually  suc- 
cumbing to  the  long  years  of  consumption,  could  not 
care  for  him  alone,  so  it  was  decided  that  the  house 
should  be  closed  for  the  remainder  of  the  winter  and 
spring,  and  the  two  girls  accompany  them.  Hasty 
preparations  were  made  and  in  a  few  days  all  was  quiet 
at  Oak  Grove,  and  Marna  with  the  blind  girl  and  th« 
invalids  were  on  their  journey.  It  had  been  arranged 
to  go  by  way  of  Cincinnati,  and  rest  there  for  a  few  days 
with  Mrs.  Dawson,  Mr.  Lewis'  sister.  Marna  was 
delighted  with  everything  she  saw  on  the  way.  Every- 


300  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

thing  was  so  new  and  beautiful,  and  she  took  special 
delight  in  picturing  to  her  blind  friend  the  beautiful 
scenery,  lofty  trees  high  up  on  mountain  peaks ;  the  deep 
vales  with  their  limpid  streams;  the  forests  of  evergreen 
branches  waving  in  the  breeze,  showing  the  light  and 
dark  shades  of  their  green;  to  all  of  which  the  quiet 
Milly  listened  with  evident  delight,  smiling  contentedly 
and  seeming  to  drink  in  the  beauties  as  she  listened  to 
that  full,  clear  voice  with  its  modulating  tones,  and  its 
strangely  magnetic  power  of  description,  arid  in  the 
depths  of  her  affection  more  than  once  she  reached 
forward  and  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  the  young  girl's  fore- 
head, while  her  sightless  eyes,  clear  and  perfect  to  the 
gaze,  almost  beamed  with  the  gratitude  she  felt  as  she 
said: 

Marna,  dear,  you  make  life  very  beautiful  to  me, 
and  I  thank  the  Good  Father  every  hour  for  bringing 
you  to  me.  Life  was  a  burden  almost  too  heavy  for  me 
to  carry  and  the  darkness  was  so  dense  that  I  sometimes 
longed  for  death;  but  since  you  have  been  with  me  I 
have  scarcely  missed  my  sight;  but  I  feel  that  I  am  too 
much  of  a  care  for  you — a  great  hindrance  to  your  becom- 
ing what  you  might — and  I  may  be  selfish,  but  O,  Marna, 
promise  me  that  you  will  not  leave  me  to  follow  the  allur- 
ing beck  of  fame." 

Marna  Lewis  (for  she  was  now  known  by  no  other 
name)  looked  for  a  moment  into  the  troubled  face  of  her 
adopted  sister,  and  then  lifting  the  little  white  hand  of 
Mildred  which  she  held  in  her  own  to  her  lips,  said: 

"  Milly,  do  you  for  a  moment  think  that  I  could  be  so 
ungrateful  for  all  that  you  and  j^ours  have  done  for  me, 
a8  to  desert  you?    Never,  no  never  will  I  leave  you 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  UFE. 


301 


while  we  both  live,  even  though  it  costs  the  sacrifice  of 
wealth  and  fame — nay,  more,  my  heart's  best  affections. 
So  please  dismiss  frum  your  mind,  now  and  ever,  all 
uneasiness  regarding  that." 

There  had  been  so  much  said  in  the  hearing  of  Mil- 
dred respecting  Marna's  ability  for  becoming  a  world- 
renowned  songster,  and  praises  lavished  with  no  sparing 
words  on  her  beauty  of  person,  that  she  began  to  fear 
that  if  the  desire  for  fame  did  not  turn  her  away  that 
the  words  of  the  flatterer  might  make  her  discontented^ 
and  create  a  desire  to  go  out  from  the  quiet  monotony 
of  Oak  Grove.  But  to  all  this  the  young  girl  had 
turned  a  deaf  ear,  never  for  a  moment  forgetting  her 
gratitude  to  her  benevolent  benefactors — never  seeing 
duty  point  but  toward  those  who  had  cared  for  and  pro- 
tected her  from  the  rude  blasts  of  time. 

The  invalids  were  very  weary  when  they  arrived  at 
the  home  of  Mrs.  Dawson  at  Mt.  Auburn.  The  good, 
kind  sister  insisted  that  no  less  time  than  a  week  should 
be  given  to  rest,  and  while  they  reclined  in  their  easy 
chairs  and  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dawson  brought  up  pleas- 
ant reminiscences  of  early  days,  Mildred  and  Marna  took 
their  rest  in  the  open  air,  Mr.  Dawson's  coach  and  driver 
being  at  their  command,  Marna  as  usual  seeing  for  both. 
The  day  spent  at  Spring  Grove  was  one  never  to  be  for- 
gotten by  either.  As  they  drove  slowly  through  the 
winding  avenues  Marna  spoke  of  the  humbly-marked 
graves  as  well  as  of  the  more  pretentious  and  costly 
ones,  and  of  the  elegant  monuments  where  thousands 
had  been  lavished  to  mark  the  resting-place  of  the  sleep- 
ing loved  ones.  There  came  a  sadness  over  their  spirits 
and  Marna  would  fain  have  closed  her  lips  and  looked 


302  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

silence  upon  the  magnificence  of  this  city  of  the  dead, 
but  with  her  unselfish  nature  she  pictured  it  all — each 
plant  and  shrub — with  such  accuracy  of  language  that 
Mildred's  tender  heart  was  touched,  and  she  wept  as  one 
might  who  could  see  it  in  its  silent  grandeur  with  its 
scores  of  sermons;  and  as  they  left  this  silent  city  and 
came  out  on  the  great  thoroughfares  again,  they  carried 
in  their  hearts  a  subdued  feeling  and  many  good  resolves 
of  which  they  talked  in  their  confidence  w^ith  each  other 
until  they  neared  home.  The  following  days  were  spent 
in  like  manner,  the  Esplanade  being  among  their  favorite 
resorts,  and  to  which  they  made  repeated  visits.  The 
fountain  was  lastingly  impressed  upon  Mildred's  mind 
by  a  remark  made  by  Marna  in  her  description  of  it. 
When  she  came  to  the  central  figure  she  said: 

"  I  can  only  think  as  I  look  on  that  figure,  with  its 
uplifted  hands,  the  crystal  stream  flowing  from  each 
finger-tip,  of  Him  who  said  in  the  ages  long  past,  '  Come 
unto  me  all  ye  ends  of  the  earth,  and  be  ye  saved,' 
^Come  drink  of  the  waters  of  life.'" 

Walnut  Hill  and  Eden  Park,  with  their  extended 
views  of  city  and  country,  had  been  taken  in  and  the 
last  day  had  come.  Trunks  were  packed  and  all  prepa- 
rations made  for  their  departure  in  the  evening.  The 
afternoon  proved  too  unpleasant  for  a  drive,  a  cold, 
drizzling  rain  having  set  in  at  noon.  Mrs.  Dawson, 
seeing  they  were  at  a  loss  how  to  put  in  the  time,  said 
she  would  be  glad  if  they  would  accompany  her  to  the 
funeral  of  a  neighbor  which  she  felt  it  her  duty  to 
attend,  and  from  which  her  absence  could  not  easily  be 
excused. 

"It  is  a  neighbor,"  she   said,  ^'and  our  families 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


303 


have  been  on  intimate  terms  for  many  years,  and  we 
fecjl  the  loss  of  the  good  man  as  if  he  were  a  brother; 
and  almost  the  hardest  part  of  it  is  that  in  his  death 
we  lose  both  him  and  his  wife.  Their  only  daughter 
is  married  and  lives  in  San  Francisco,  and  has  been 
here  for  some  weeks,  and  it  is  not  her  wish  alone, 
but  Mr.  Merrill's  expressed  desire  before  his  death,  that 
his  wife  should  return  with  her  and  make  California  her 
future  home.  I  have,"  she  said,  ^'  been  to  the  house, 
three  doors  from  here,  and  have  taken  my  leave,  and 
we  can  go  right  to  the  church  while  your  Father  and 
Mother  are  resting,  if  you  think  you  would  rather  than 
to  remain  here." 

The  girls  readily  acquiesced,  and  they  were  soon  seated 
near  the  center  of  the  little  brick  church.  Mrs.  Dawson 
had  heard  Marna  sing  frequently,  and  like  other  persons 
had  been  charmed,  so  after  they  were  seated  she  con- 
ceived the  idea  that  it  would  be  quite  an  addition  to  the 
services  if  she  would  sing  as  a  solo  some  appropriate 
piece.  As  they  were  quite  early,  and  but  few  others 
present,  she  rose  hastily,  asking  Marna  and  Mildred  to 
excuse  her.  Returning  in  a  few  moments  she  handed 
Marna  a  daintily- written  note,  which  contained  a  request 
for  her  to  sing  ''Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul"  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  services.  Marna  read  and  re-read  the 
note  with  trembling  hand  and  pallid  cheek,  and  then 
she  said: 

"Aunty  Dawson,  I  cannot  do  it.  I  am  a  stranger 
and  besides  that  have  sang  but  little  in  public." 

Mrs.  Dawson  urged  that  she  ''had  promised  to  see 
that  she  sang,  and  they  would  expect  it." 

The  greater  part  of  the  time  during  the  services  was 


304  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

spent  in  trying  to  quiet  the  wild  throbbings  of  her  heart, 
which  she  partially  succeded  in  doing,  and  when  the 
minister  asked  Miss  Lewis  to  come  forward  she  went 
with  a  modest  grace,  and  looked  out  into  the  many 
strange  faces  with  a  calmness  born  of  a  power  above 
and  beyond  her  own.  For  a  moment  all  was  silence; 
and  then  in  low,  sweet  tones  she  poured  forth  her  soul 
in  those  thrilling  words  until  all  eyes  were  suffused  with 
tears,  and  audible  sobs  were  heard  from  many  pews,  and 
when  she  concluded  a  deep-toned  Amen  fell  from  a  score 
of  lips. 

Upon  returning  to  her  seat  she  found  that  room  had 
been  left  for  her  next  the  aisle  through  which  the  coffin 
was  to  be  borne,  and  as  with  slow  and  measured  steps 
friends  and  neighbors  passed  down  the  long  aisle,  Marna 
met  the  eyes  of  the  bearers.  Then  came  the  wife  and 
daughter  of  the  departed,  each  supported  by  a  gentle- 
man friend.  As  the  outer  door  was  opened,  a  light 
breeze  swept  in,  blowing  aside  the  long  crape  veil  of  the 
grief-stricken  daughter,  and  as  it  fluttered  away  from 
her  grasp  it  twined  itself  as  if  done  by  hands  about 
the  face  and  neck  of  Marna  Lewis,  she  hastily  and  care- 
fully lifted  it  away,  and  sought  to  replace  it  over  the 
tear-stained  face,  meeting  as  she  did  so,  for  an  instant 
only,  the  sad,  brown  eyes  of  the  mourner.  A  thrill, 
such  as  she  had  never  before  known,  passed  over  her 
with  that  glance  and  involuntarily  she  clasped  her  hands 
and  deep  in  her  heart  she  felt  the  throb  of  a  new-born 
love.  She  did  not  regard  the  incident  of  the  veil  with 
the  superstition  which  characterized  some  of  the  older 
ladies,  who  were  profuse  in  their  predictions  of  sorrow 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE 


305 


for  her  at  no  distant  day;  but  she  never  ceased  to 
remember  the  sad  look  in  the  dark  brown  eyes. 

Upon  arriving  liome  they  found  the  table  spread  for 
their  last  meal  with  their  friends.  That  being  over,  the 
confusion  of  getting  off  the  baggage  began,  and  soon 
the  farewell  words,  embraces,  and  tears  were  over,  each 
finding  what  comfort  they  could  in  the  hope  of  soon 
meeting  again,  not  one  of  them  dreaming  that  the  first 
meeting  of  three  of  the  number  would  be  ere  long  on 
the  other  shore. 

As  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dawson  were  seated  alone  that 
evening  talking  over  the  occurrences  of  the  day,  Mrs. 
Bradley  entered,  saying  she  had  called  to  extend  her 
mother's  thanks  with  her  own  to  the  young  lady  for 
the  beautiful  rendering  of  their  favorite  hymn,  and  was 
greatly  disappointed  on  learning  that  she  had  departed. 

I  w^s  pleased  with  her  voice,"  she  said,  "  but  when  I 
saw  her  in  the  aisle,  as  she  readjusted  my  veil,  I  felt  as 
if  I  had  known  and  loved  her  for  years.  Did  you  say 
she  was  your  niece?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Dawson,  not  deeming  it  necessary  to 
go  into  the  details  of  telling  it  was  only  by  adoption, 

Marna  Lewis,  from  near  Cleveland,  Ohio." 
The  call  was  a  short  one,  and  Mrs.  Bradley  went  out 
with  an  undefined  feeling  of  regret  and  disappointment 
that  she  had  been  unable  to  see  Marna  again. 

At  last  the  long  journey  came  to  an  end,  and  as  the 
bright,  full  moon  was  spreading  its  pathway  among  the 
stars,  they  were  driven  to  the  principal  hotel  at  Baton 
Rouge,  La.  The  invalids  were  made  as  comfortable  as 
could  be  expected  after  so  long  a  journey,  yet  too  weary 
for  aught  else  than  to  retire.  The  girls,  however,  pre^ 
20 


306 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


ferred  to  remain  on  the  balcony  for  a  time  where  the 
guests  congregated  to  watch  the  little  boats,  with  their 
freight  of  young  people^  merrily  plying  up  and  down  the 
river  in  the  moonlight,  while  the  happy  carol  of  song, 
and  peals  of  laughter  rang  out  in  the  clear  midnight  air, 
mingling  with  the  splashing  of  the  oars.  It  was  restful 
for  the  two  girls,  and  after  an  hour  thus  spent  they  com- 
mitted themselves  to  the  keeping  of  the  All  Wise 
Father  who  sleepeth  not,  and  were  soon  lost  to  all  sur- 
rounding objects,  and  living  over  again  their  journey 
through  groves  of  beautiful  tropical  fruits  and  flowers, 
and  speeding  away  through  forests  of  stately  trees,  where 
the  clematis,  mistletoe,  and  ivy  hung  in  garlands  every- 
where, .twining,  arching,  and  swinging  in  the  air  far 
above  them,  making  an  Eden  for  their  delight. 

But  not  long  were  they  permitted  to  enjoy  this  peace- 
ful slumber.  Soon  after  midnight  they  were  aroused  by 
the  shrieks  of  women  and  children,  the  loud  tramping 
of  feet  hurrying  to  and  fro,  the  heavy  clanking  sound  of  . 
trunks  and  furniture,  and  above  all  the  wild  crv  of  "Fire! 
fire!" 

In  her  fright  Marna  forgot  not  what  she  regarded 
her  first  duty,  and  hastily  throwing  a  thick  shawl  about 
the  shoulders  of  Mildred,  she  conducted  her  through  the 
surging  crowd,  which  almost  blockaded  the  stairs  and 
halls,  out  to  a  place  of  safety,  where  kind  hearts  were 
ready  with  open  doors  to  welcome  the  shivering,  fright- 
ened ones.  Having  given  her  into  the  care  of  a  matronly 
woman  she  hastened  back  with  all  possible  speed  to  find 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lewis.  With  the  plaintive  wail  of  Milly's 
voice  still  ringing  in  her  ear,  "  O,  save  them !  Marna, 
save  them!"  she  hastened  through  the  halls  and  up 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


307 


the  long  flights  of  stairs,  while  voices  loud  and  shrill 
called  after  her  not  to  venture  as  the  roof  was  about 
falling,  but  she  heeded  not  the  warning  cry.  To  save 
the  ones  she  loved  was  all  she  thought  of.  At  the 
upper  landing  she  came  upon  a  group  of  persons  cling- 
ing  to  each  other,  and  almost  suflfocated  by  the  dense 
smoke,  and  who  were  trying  in  their  bewilderment  to 
find  their  way  out — which  they  never  could  have  done 
without  a  guiding  hand — and  when  she  cried  eagerly  to 
know  if  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lewis  were  there  she  received  the 
answer  from  Mr.  Lewis: 

"Yes,  child.  Thank  God!  you  have  come.  Is  Milly 
safe?" 

"All  is  right!  Come  every  one  of  you!  Follow 
quickly  or  you  are  lost!  " 

Just  as  she  uttered  these  words,  a  shower  of  small 
timbers  from  the  roofing  fell,  scorching  and  choking 
them,  and  almost  blocking  up  the  passage  to  the  stairs, 
while  great  heavy  groans  went  up  from  hundreds  of 
hearts  below.  A  courageous  young  man,  hearing  her 
cry  for  help,  sprang  with  alacrity  up  the  stairs,  and  by 
his  aid  they  were  rescued  just  as  the  heavy  beams  fell 
with  a  crashing  sound.  Tlie  wild  flames  shot  upward, 
fairly  lapping  the  clouds  with  their  lurid  tongues,  then 
a  dense  smoke  rose  from  the  smoldering  ruins,  and  the 
"  Hotel  De  Grande,"  with  all  its  beauty  and  comfort, 
was  no  more* 

The  fatigue  of  the  journey,  together  with  the  excite- 
ment and  exposure  of  that  night,  proved  too  much  for 
the  feeble  Mrs.  Lewis,  and  the  balmy  air  of  magnolia 
and  orange  groves — the  beautiful  scenery,  the  fruits  and 
flowers — were  as  naught  to  her.    She  was  looking  away 


308  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

to  that  fairer  land,  where  "flowers  are  in  perpetual 
bloom,"  and  where  the  fruit  hangs  in  rich  clusters  from 
the  Tree  of  Life  "  hard  by  the  throne  of  God,"  and  in 
less  than  two  weeks  after  their  arrival,  she  bade  them 
adieu,  saying: 

"  I  had  always  hoped  to  oe  laid  in  "Woodland  beside 
my  two  little  ones,  but  it  seems  not  to  be  the  Father's 
will,  and  I  am  content." 

Mr.  Lewis,  in  a  husky  voice,  broken  by  frequent  sob- 
bing,  said: 

"  Your  wish  shall  be  granted,  dear  wife.  We  will 
take  you  back.  I  shall  not  be  long  away  from  you. 
For  some  days  1  have  been  growing  worse,  and  my 
physician  tells  me  it  is  only  a  question  of  days  with  me; 
and  so  there  is  no  need  of  my  remaining  longer  here." 

A  few  hours  later  Marna  stood  holding  the  frail  Milly 
in  her  arms,  telling  her  of  the  calm,  sweet  smile  that 
rested  upon  her  dear  mother's  pale  face,  and  their  tears 
mingled  as  they  spoke  of  the  beautiful  life  and  triumph- 
ant death  of  the  one  whom  they  loved. 

Almost  overcome  with  grief,  Mr.  Lewis  tried  to  rally 
sufficiently  to  give  orders  for  their  departure;  but  long 
before  all  was  complete,  he  was  obliged  to  leave  it 
entirely  with  Marna,  who,  with  the  precision  of  one  of 
greater  experience,  soon  had  arraiigements  made,  and 
when  the  next  morning's  sun  arose,  with  its  glimmering 
rays,  lighting  up  the  moss-covered  forests,  they  were 
being  borne  on  their  homeward  journey.  She  saw  by 
its  earliest  light,  that  a  great  change  had  come  over  the 
face  of  Mr.  Lewis,  by  whose  side  slie  had  remained  all 
the  long,  dark  hours  of  the  night.    Upon  inquiry,  she 


A  STORY  OF  REAI.  LIFE. 


809 


learned  that  a  physician  was  aboard  the  train,  who  was 
at  once  summoned. 

"  Too  late^'^  and  he  shook  his  head  sadly  as  he  felt  the 
feebly  fluttering  pulse. 

Milly  was  immediately  told  of  his  condition;  and  as 
the  girls  and  the  aged  stranger  stood  about  and  tried  to 
minister  to  him,  he  opened  his  eyes,  and  looking  at  the 
stranger  said  in  a  feeble  whisper: 
Help  them!  I  need  no  more." 

Then  turning  to  the  two  girls  who  were  convulsed 
with  grief,  he  said: 

"  Be  good,  be  true,  and  we  shall  meet  again.  Fare- 
well!" 

He  closed  his  eyes,  and  they  thought  him  sleeping 
until  the  Doctor  said, It  is  all  over ! "  And  then  with 
arms  clasped  about  each  other's  waists,  they  knelt  tnere 
in  that  early  morn,  with  the  lowering  clouds  growing 
darker  about  them. 

It  is  said  the  higher  and  lighter  clouds  are  the  ones 
that  send  forth  great  drops  which  are  soon  followed 
by  the  sunlight,  while  the  low,  black  clouds  shed  the 
gentle  mists,  permeating  sward  and  soil;  and  so  this 
double  grief  was  eating  its  way  into  every  fibre  of  their 
young  hearts,  and  they  invoked  the  Father  of  all  mercies 
for  strength  to  bear  it,  and  when  they  arose  they  felt  the 
T)resence  of  the  great  Sliekinah. 

After  taking  Milly  to  her  resting-place,  Marna 
returned  to  where  she  had  left  the  stranger  with  the  dead. 
Acting  upon  his  advice,  and  with  his  proffered  assistance, 
they  left  the  train  at  the  first  stopping-place,  and  by  the 
time  the  next  through  train  was  due,  the  two  coffins 
were  placed  side  by  side  and  the  orphaned  girls  took 


810  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

their  places  in  the  crowded  coach.  They  had  sent  a 
telegram  to  Mr.  Dawson  to  meet  them,  and  received 
these  words: 

"Mrs.  Dawson  died  this  morning!" 

At  the  end  of  their  journey  they  were  met  by  many 
friends  and  neighbors,  among  whom  was  Stuart  Lowe, 
an  intimate  friend  of  the  family,  and  who  to  them,  in  the 
past,  had  been  as  a  brother. 

To-day  visitors  at  Woodland  Cemetery  pause  in  their 
rounds  beside  two  neat  white  stones,  from  each  of  which 
an  arm  is  extended  toward  the  other,  and  hands  clasp- 
ing unite  the  two,  and  upon  which  no  words  are 
chiseled  save  that  of  "  Father,"  "  Mother,"  and  near  by 
are  three  smaller  ones,  and  upon  one  of  later  date  we 
read,    Mildred  sleeps." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


AT  OAK  GROVE. 

The  days  were  dreary,  and  the  nights  long  and  lonely, 
for  the  two  grief-stricken  girls  at  Oak  Grove,  although 
neighbors  and  friends  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in 
their  efforts  to  make  it  as  pleasant  as  possible  for  them. 
Mr.  Lowe,  whose  habit,  through  all  the  years  of  his 
business  life  in  the  city,  had  been  to  spend  his  Sabbaths 
at  Oak  Grove,  now  became  more  frequent  in  his  visits, 
and  they  were  not  surprised  at  his  arrival  any  evening 
of  the  week,  and  to  him  they  soon  learned  to  look  as  their 
sole  counselor,  and  intrusted  to  him  all  matters  of  im- 
portance; while  he  in  turn,  being  ever  kind  and  con- 
siderate of  their  comfort,  regarding  the  slightest  wish  of 
either  as  law,  was  consequently  held  by  them  in  high 
esteem. 

The  recent  shock  to  Mildred's  delicately-organized 
constitution  was  so  great  that  her  efforts  to  rally  were 
unavailing,  and  Marna's  anxious  eye  detected,  as  the 
weeks  and  inonths  dragged  their  weary  lengths  through 
to  autumn's  golden  gate,  that  with  her  failing  strength 
her  hitherto  clear  complexion  was  taking  on  the  blueish 
tint.  The  hectic  flush  upon  her  cheek  grew  deeper,  and 
the  hemorrhage  more  frequent,  and  Marna's  daily 
prayer  was : 

"  Not  yet,  O,  Lord,  not  yet!  Spare  her  to  me  until 
I  am  stronger  grown." 

du 


812  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

But  the  fiat  had  gone  forth — physicians,  drugs,  and 
friends,  with  busy  loving  hands  were  powerless  to 
change  the  firm  behest  of  Him  who  doeth  all  things 
well,  and  long  before  the  snow  birds  winged  their  way 
to  the  chilly  North,  it  became  evident  to  all  that  the 
daisies  and  violets  of  spring  would  bloom  above  her 
quiet  resting-place. 

Realizing  this  herself,  she  set  about  in  a  quiet  way  to 
arrange  her  earthly  afiairs,  and  after  having  matured 
her  plans,  she  had  a  long,  confidential  talk  with  Mr. 
Lowe,  who  when  he  came  out  from  her  presence,  paused 
for  a  few  moments  to  talk  with  Marna  regarding  some 
minor  afiairs,  and  as  he  bent  his  scrutinizing  gaze  upon 
her  she  felt  that  his  bearing  towa:rd  her  had  changed, 
having  suddenly  grown  quite  reserved.  And  yet  his 
kindness  was  more  manifest,  his  tenderness  more  tender, 
upon  each  recurring  visit,  until  she  wondered  at  the 
change,  and  began  feeling  a  degree  of  restraint  toward 
the  one  upon  whom  she  had  heretofore  looked  as  a 
brother,  and  with  a  sister's  familiarity  had  ever 
accosted  him.  Some  days  after  Mildred's  talk  with  Mr. 
Lowe  she  called  Mania  to  her  side,  saying: 

"  Sit  down,  dear;  I  want  to  have  a  long  talk  with  you. 
I  feel  that  I  am  nearing  the  end  of  life's  journey,  and 
shall  not  have  strength  to  do  it  if  I  wait  longer." 

"  I  am  here,  Milly,  and  will  listen  to  all  you  have  to 
say;"  and  taking  her  thin,  white  hand  in  her  own  and 
pressing  it  to  her  lips  waited  quietly  for  her  to  speak. 

"  You  know,"  she  said,  after  a  moment  (seemingly 
waiting  for  strength),  "  that  Father  provided  in  his  will 
that  the  old  tenement  house  on  the  back  part  of  the  farm 
should  be  torn  away  and  a  neat  little  cottage  built  on  the 


Mr.  Lowe  witu  Mak^na  j;v  uia  hide.    See  page  317. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


813 


northeast  corner,  which  should  be  the  home  of  Sam  and 
Betsy  during  their  lives.  You  will  see  that  his  wishes 
in  this  regard  are  carried  out,  will  you  not?" 

After  Marna  had  promised  to  do  so,  she  continued: 
"You  remember   the   estate  was  divided  equally 
between  you  and  myself,  with  the  exception  of  a  thou- 
sand dollars  which  he  gave  as  a  present  to  Mr.  Lowe, 
which  he  has  already  received;  and  one  part  of  my  talk 
with  you  is  to  inform  you  that  I  have  disposed  of  my 
portion  equally  between  Mr.  Lowe  and  yourself,  and 
that  will  make  you  both  quite  comfortable — his  portion 
consisting  of  the  outlying  lands,  while  the  buildings 
with  all  their  furnishings-  are  yours,  as  you  will  find 
accurately  made  out  in  my  will.    Are  you  satisfied  with 
this,  Marna?    If  not  I  will  change  it." 
With  tears  Marna  said  only  these  words: 
"  Dear  Milly,  your  wish  is  my  pleasure  in  this  as  in 
all  else." 

They  sat  in  silence  for  some  moments,  Marna  with 
her  face  buried  in  the  pillow  close  up  to  that  of  Mildred, 
who  lay  with  her  sightless  eyes  closed,  while  her  thin 
lips  moved  as  if  in  silent  prayer.  After  some  moments 
spent  thus  she  said: 

"  Marna,  tell  me  again  just  how  Mr.  Lowe  looks.  I 
remember  his  looks  before  I  lost  my  sight;  but  when 
you  describe  him  to  me,  it  seems  like  looking  at  the 
daguerreotype  of  an  absent  friend." 

Marna  did  as  requested,  and  there  was  another  and  a 
longer  silence,  Marna  bending  her  earnest  gaze  into  the 
pale  face  as  if  to  read  the  truth  of  what  she  had  half 
surmised  for  a  long  time.    At  length  the  sightless  eyes, 


--314  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

moist  with  tears,  turned  as  if  seeking  the  face  of  her 
friend. 

"Are  you  here,  dear? "  she  said.  "  Let  me  take  your 
hand  in  mine  while  I  tell  you  of  myself.  I  have  never 
kept  but  one  secret  from  you,  and  should  not  have  kept 
that  had  it  been  less  sacred."  And  there,  in  the  shadows 
of  the  coming  night,  she  unfolded  to  Marna  the  story  of 
her  love  for  Mr.  Lowe,  saying  "  we  were  only  waiting 
for  my  school  days  to  be  over  to  be  united,  but  before 
that  time  arrived  the  dreadful  affliction  of  the  loss  of 
my  sight  came  upon  me.  He  would  have  taken  me 
even  then,  but  I  loved  him  too  well  to  burden  him  with 
a  blind  companion,  and  at  last  he  reluctantly  gave  it  up. 
But  in  dying,  Marna,  I  shall  love  him  with  all  the  fervor 
of  those  brighter  days ;  and  I  have  hoped  through  all 
these  years  that  sometime  he  might  transfer  his  love  t^r 
you  and  that  you  might  return  it.  I  know  that  he  loves 
you  very  dearly  now;  and  when  I  am  gone,  perhaps  you 
will  have  his  undivided  affection,  and,  if  so,  as  I  cannot 
bear  the  thought  of  your  being  left  alone,  and  " — here 
she  paused  as  if  struggling  to  master  her  emotions,  then 
after  a  moment  went  calmly  on — "could  you  return 
his  love,  and  be  to  him  what  I  might  have  been — his 
wife?" 

Marna  made  no  reply  for  some  time.  It  had  come  to 
her  so  sudden,  that  her  very  heart  stood  still  in  the 
attempt  to  analyze  her  feelings.  At  length  she  said  in 
a  low  whisper: 

"  Not  yet,  dear  Milly ;  not  yet  can  1  answer  so  import- 
ant a  question."  And  she  kissed  the  hand  she  held  in 
her  own,  and  laying  it  back  drew  up  the  counterpane 
saying,  "You  are  weary,  dear,  with  this  long  talk. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


315 


Rest  now  while  I  look  after  your  tea,  and  I  will  think 
of  this  matter  and  give  you  my  answer  some  other 
time.'^ 

That  evening  Mildred  told  Mr.  Lowe  that  she  had 
talked  with  Marna  respecting  their  future,  and  that  she 
had  promised  to  think  of  it,  and  talk  with  her  again; 
and  then  she  added: 

"Now  that  I  have  got  my  own  consent  to  it,  and 
h\ow  that  it  is  pleasing  to  you,  I'm  growing  impatient 
to  have  her  consent.  I  would  like  to  have  the  marriage 
ceremony  performed  before  I  leave  you,  and  then  it 
would  not  be  so  hard  for  me  to  go;  for  I  know  that  you 
will  love  and  comfort  her  in  my  absence,  and  she  can  be 
more  to  you  than  I  could  have  been — she  is  so  strong 
and  noble,  so  self-reliant  and  yet  so  gentle  in  all  her 
ways.    If  she  consents  are  you  willing?  " 

Mildred  was  perfectly  calm  now,  for  the  struggle  of 
giving  him  up  to  another  had  been  a  long  and  painful 
one,  but  she  had  triumphed  grandly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Low^e,  "I  think  it  will  be  best,  at 
least  it  would  appear  better  to  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
than  if  we  were  married  quite  soon  after  you  left  us, 
and  it  would  be  very  lonely  for  her  here,  even  for  a  few 
months,  and  my  calling  as  frequent  as  now  might 
excite  remarks  detrimental  to  her  good  name.  So  ask 
her  to  decide  as  soon  as  possible,  so  that  yotcr  wish  may 
be  granted,  and  if  she  entertains  it  favorably  I  will  then 
broach  the  subject  to  her." 

Marna  slept  but  little  that  night.  The  long  hours 
were  spent  in  trying  to  learn  what  her  heart's  choice 
was  in  this  matter.    At  last,  as  the  gray  dawn  of  the 


316  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

coming  morning  was  stealing  through  her  window,  she 
murmured: 

"  1  have  said  that  her  wish  should  ever  be  my  pleas- 
ure, and  so  it  shall  in  this  as  in  all  else;  and  if  Mr. 
Lowe  proposes  I  will  accept,  and  with  God's  help  I  will 
try  to  make  him  happy.  I  love  him  now  sufficient  to 
do  a  wife's  duty,  and  if  there  is  more  required,  perhaps 
I  can  learn  it  as  the  years  go  by." 

And  with  this  resolve  she  fell  into  a  peaceful  sleep 
from  which  she  did  not  awake  till  long  past  her  usual 
hour. 

Young,  innocent  Marna,  thy  heart  has  never  known 
the  throbbings  of  that  deeper  love — has  never  vibrated 
to  that  holiest  of  holy  songs — never  felt  the  thrill  of 
love  in  the  intensity  with  which  it  comes  to  the  heart, 
perhaps  but  once  in  a  lifetime,  or  you  might  not  have 
decided  thus  hastily.  Alas,  like  too  many  who  have 
gone  before,  and  who  will  follow  after  you,  the  decision 
was  made  while  mistaking  the  lighter  grades  of  that 
heaven-born  passion  for  the  real,  and  in  whose  trail 
sorrow  so  often  follows,  as  hundreds  of  blighted  lives 
are  testifying  day  by  day. 

It  was  a  bright  morning  near  the  close  of  March  that 
old  Uncle  Sam  and  his  good  wife  Betsy,  dressed  in  their 
best,  came  up  from  the  old  tenement  house  and  took 
their  seats  quietly  in  Mildred's  room,  having  first  taken 
her  hand  aifectionately  inquiring  after  her  health 

"  It  will  not  be  long,"  she  said,  "  until  I  shall  see  my 
dear  parents;  and  then  too,  I  shall  see  the  great  King  in 
His  beauty  and  be  forever  at  rest." 

The  servants  were  all  gathered  in  the  same  room, 
and  soon  the  stately  form  of  the  Kev.  Dundass  walked 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


817 


in,  followed  by  Mr.  Lowe  with  Marna  by  his  side.  She 
was  dressed  in  simple  white  mull,  with  a  cluster  of 
daisies  at  her  throat,  as  Milly  had  requested.  They 
walked  up  close  to  the  bedside  of  the  invalid,  when  she, 
reaching  out,  placed  the  hand  of  Marna  in  that  of  Mr. 
Lowe,  saying  in  a  clear,  sweet  voice: 

"Take her,  Stewart;  be  to  her  all  and  even  more,  if 
possible,  than  you  would  have  been  to  me.  Love  her 
for  my  sake  as  well  as  for  her  own  dear  sake." 

"  I  will,"  came  in  clear,  deep  tones  from  the  young 
man's  lips;  and  then  to  Marna  she  said :  "  Take  him, 
Marna,  my  last  best  gift.  Love  him  as  I  would  have 
done,  or  moie  if  possible,  and  may  the  Father  above 
bless  and  prosper  you." 

With  the  help  of  God,  I  will  try,"  came  in  low,  sweet 
accents  from  the  trembling  girl,  and  then  the  clergyman 
came  forward  and  sealed  the  vows  which  made  them 
husband  and  wife,  and  bowiYig  his  head  while  his  hands 
rested  upon  theirs  clasped  with  the  vow  to  be  true  in 
life  and  in  death,  he  invoked  Heaven's  blessings  to  rest 
upon  them;  then,  each  kneeling  by  the  bedside,  a  fervent 
prayer  was  offered  for  the  patient,  loving  invalid,  and 
when  they  arose  and  looked  upon  her  pale  face,  they 
saw  that  she  was  sleeping  the  sleep  that  knows  no  wak- 
ing, and  in  Marna's  heart  her  words  were  repeated,  "  In 
dying  I  shall  love  him  with  all  the  fervor  of  those 
brighter  days.''  That  heart  was  too  pure  to  live  witii 
the  burden  of  sin  resting  upon  it  of  loving  one  who  by 
earth's  law^s  belonged  to  another. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


DESERTED. 

The  years  which  have  passed  by  since  that  memorable 
morning  at  Oak  Grove,  when  the  cold  hands  of  Mildred 
Lewis  were  folded  over  her  lifeless  breast,  and  her  eyes 
closed  by  the  loving  hands  of  Marna  Lowe,  have  been 
full  of  heart-aches  and  sorrow  for  Marna,  over  which  at 
times  little  gleams  of  hope  and  courage  would  flit,  shed- 
ding just  enough  of  comfort  to  blind  the  eyes,  and  im- 
pede the  march  of  despaii*,  as  it  came  gradually  stealing 
over  her  yonng  life;  and  as  little  Mildred  crept  lovingly 
into  her  arms  and  nestled  her  flaxen  head  upon  her 
breast,  she  murmured  : 

Mildred,  I  had  hoped  that  your  coming  would  have 
wrought  a  greater  change.  True,  my  darling,  you  have 
brought  to  my  heart  new  life — new  love — and  the  void 
is  not  so  great;  but  I  had  hoped — O,  so  earnestly  hoped! 
— that  it  might  add  a  new  and  irresistible  charm,  to 
win  for  our  embrace  the  estranged  one,  and  bring  that 
wandering  heart  back  to  the  altar,  where  lay  its  broken 
vows.'^ 

At  the  end  of  the  first  month  after  their  marriage, 
Mr.  Lowe  began  urging  the  sale  of  Oak  Grove,  claiming, 
among  other  objections  to  retaining  it,  the  distance 
from  business,  holding  out  as  an  inducement  to  Marna 
the  advantages  of  the  city,  with  its  many  literary  and 
musical  treats,  to  all  of  which  she  listened  with  but 

318 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  319 

little  interest;  and  after  using  all  the  persuasive  argu- 
ments in  her  power,  and  finding  him  still  inexorable, 
she  reluctantly  yielded,  feeling  as  she  went  out  from 
that  home,  which  had  been  her  only  asylum  in  life,  that 
a  new  era  was  opening  up  before  her. 

Pleasant  suites  of  rooms  were  fitted  up  and  elegantly 
furnished  ready  for  her  reception,  in  a  beautiful  part  of 
the  city.    So  the  weeks  and  months  grew  into  years, 
with  Mr.  Lowe  growing  more  and  more  occupied  with 
business  cares,  so  that  there  was  no  time  to  be  given  to 
home  pleasures;  and  in  her  loneliness  Marna  often  felt 
that  hungering  for  the  love  and  companionship  of  which 
she  had  fondly  dreamed  should  be  hers — but  it  came 
not.    All  efforts  to  entertain  by  music  and  conversation 
were  utiavailing.  During  all  her  days  at  Oak  Grove  she 
had  looked  upon  him  from  Milly's  standpoint,  and  ever 
classed  him  with  the  higher,  nobler  men  of  culture  and 
refinement,  and  now  she  was  learning  that  he  was  not 
all  she  had  fancied  him  to  be,  and  she  grew  sad  as  she 
thought  of  her_life,  which  had  ever  been  an  enigma  to 
her — a  problem  she  had  never  been  able  to  solve,  but 
which  she  had  hoped  the  mystic  key  of  love  would 
unravel.    Sometimes,  in  her  loneliness,  she  felt  inclined 
to  murmur  at  the  fate  which  held  her  in  its  iron  grasp, 
and  witli  a  sad  heart  she  saw  one  hope  after  another — 
one  ambition  after  another — droop  and  die;  and  the 
future  looked  to  her  disconsolate  vision  like  a  dreary 
desert,  and  she  shrank  from  touching  its  soil  with  her 
weary  feet.    But  just  when  the  days  were  darkest,  there 
came  a  relief  to  this  dearth  of  her  life  by  the  unexpected 
arrival  of  Dr.  Rush,  he  having  been  a  school-mate  and 
life-long  friend  of  Mr.  Lowe's*    It  naturally  devolved 


320  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

upon  Marna  to  entertain  their  guest;  and  to  make  it 
pleasant  for  him  the  operas,  theaters  and  lectures  were 
all  taken  in,  while  the  days  were  spent  in  pleasant 
drives  through  the  city  and  out  to  Oak  Grove,  and  in 
his  highly-cultured  society,  while  being  entertained 
with  his  enlightened  views  upon  many  subjects  of 
interest  to  her.  Mania  began  to  feel  as  if  life  was  not  such 
a  burden  after  all. 

Does  the  reader  imagine  that  during  all  this  time  the 
green-eyed  monster  and  the  vile  tongue  of  gossiping 
slander  could  be  sleeping?  If  so,  please  point  to  the 
place  in  the  annals  of  time  where  such  a  harvest  of 
golden  fruit  remained  ungathered.  Her  choicest  pieces 
were  sung  and  played— her  favorite  books  read  and 
commented  upon,  until  the  listener's  heart  was  charmed. 
The  day  before  the  one  set  for  his  departure  to  the  Far 
West  proved  to  be  dark  and  dismal,  with  lowering  clouds 
and  mists  of  rain,  and  consequently  must  be  given  to 
indoor  amusements. 

The  Doctor,  being  quite  gifted  in  song,  many  of  their 
favorite  pieces  were  rehearsed,  and  when  Marna  sang 
alone  a  piece  of  her  own  composing  entitled  "  I  am 
Lonely,  Mother,  Lonely,"  she  poured  forth  her  own 
hearts  loneliness  with  a  pathos  that  drew  her  listener  to 
her  sidp  He  had  not  been  an  idle  inmate  of  the  house- 
hold during  his  protracted  stay.  He  had  read  the  true 
state  of  affairs  as  existing  between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lowe 
from  the  first,  and  knew  that  she  was  pining  in  the 
shadows  of  magnificence  for  that  which  came  not;  and 
he  drew  near  to  her  and  placing  his  hand  upon  her  head 
stroking  her  soft,  glossy  hair  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother,  and  then  imprinting  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


321 


sank  in  a  chair  by  her  side.  Marna's  hand  listlessly 
dropped  from  the  key-board  into  her  lap,  while  a  deep 
crimson  flush  overspread  her  face,  and  the  blue  veins 
seemed  almost  bursting,  while  her  tongue,  fairly  cleaving 
to  the  roof  of  her  mouth,  refused  to  give  utterance  to 
the  indignation  she  felt,  while  the  would-be  destroyer  of 
all  that  was  left  of  happiness  for  her,  mistaking  her  silence 
and  confusion  for  that  of  a  conquered  heart,  began 
pleading  with  her  to  burst  the  fetters  that  were  holding 
her  in  torture  and  flee  with  one  whose  whole  heart,  time, 
and  wealth  should  be  at  her  command,  and  then  upon  his 
knees  he  vowed  eternal  constancy  and  devotion. 

By  this  time  Marna  had  recovered  her  presence  of 
mind  sufficient  to  form  her  thoughts  into  words,  and 
with  the  majesty  of  a  queen  she  towered  above  that 
cringing  form  at  lier  feet,  and  bade  him  leave  her  pres- 
ence and  not  seek  to  darken  her  pathway  into  utter 
blackness. 

That  night  Marna's  sleepless  pillow  was  moistened 
with  many  tears,  and  the  deep  stillness  of  her  chamber 
was  broken  by  oft -repeated  sighs  from  the  restless  one, 
God  alone  reading  her  secret  heart.  In  vain  she  strained 
her  ear  in  that  black  darkness  to  hear  the  coming  foot- 
steps of  the  truant  husband.  At  length  she  heard  a 
light  foot-fall  upon  the  stairs. 

"  Yes,  it  is  he.  Thank  God ! "  she  said  in  audible 
tones.  ^'No,  it  has  gone  further  down  the  hall;  it  must 
be  Lizzie.  Where  could  she  have  been  up  to  this  late 
hour?  I  did  not  know  that  my  darling  child  had  been 
left  alone." 

Lizzie  Vernon  had  been  employed  as  nurse  for  little 
Mildred  in  her  early  infancy  and  had  proved  of  so  much 


322  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

value  to  both  mother  and  child  that  she  had  been 
retained  from  year  to  year  until  she  had  grown,  under 
the  tasteful  and  modifying  hand  of  Marna,  to  a  gentle 
and  beautiful  young  lady — so  unpretentious  and  modest 
in  her  bearings  that  Marna  found  her,  as  she  came  into 
womanhood,  quite  companionable,  and  as  the  time 
arrived,  when  all  of  her  time  was  not  required  in  the 
family,  Mr.  Lowe  found  her  a  valuable  assistant  in  his 
oflSce. 

One  morning  in  early  June  of  18 — ,  Mr.  Lowe,  linger- 
ing longer  than  was  his  wont  in  the  drawing-room 
lavishing  his  attentions  upon  little  Mildred  and  mani- 
festing an  unusual  degree  of  concern  regarding  her 
health,  said: 

"  I  have  been  attracted  of  late  to  the  dullness  of  the 
child's  eye  and  the  sallowness  of  her  hitherto  brilliant 
complexion;  and  you,  too,  Marna,"  said  he,  turning  an 
anxious  look  toward  his  wife,  "  look  worn  and  weary.  I 
wish  I  could  give  the  time  from  my  business  to  take  a 
trip  up  the  lakes.  I  think  a  change  is  greatly  needed 
for  all,  especially  yourself  and  Milly.  I  wonder  if  we 
cannot  light  upon  some  plan  whereby  you  can  get  away 
from  the  foul  air  of  the  city  during  the  heated  season ; " 
and  with  this  he  kissed  the  ruby  lips  of  his  little 
daughter,  and  lifting  her  from  his  knee  into  her  mother's 
arms,  said: 

"  Papa  must  go.  Good  bye,"  and  as  he  said  these 
words  he  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  Marna's  lips  and  was 
gone. 

O  those  tender  words  of  solicitude  and  that  kiss — the 
first  in  a  long  time — how  they  thrilled  that  aching  heart ; 
and  with  that  kiss  still  burning  on  her  lips  she  ofiered 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  323 

up  to  the  Father  of  all  mercies  her  heart's  best  grati- 
tude. 

For  days  after  that  her  heart  kept  time  to  a  merrier 
tune  than  she  had  sang  for  many  a  day.  Some  how  or 
other  she  thought  the  sun  shone  brighter;  the  air 
seemed  clearer;  the  flowers  had  taken  on  a  brighter 
hue;  the  carol  of  the  birds  fell  upon  her  ear  with  a 
sweetness  she  had  not  observed  before,  and  life  opened 
up  before  her  with  new  beauties.  Reader,  did  the  sun 
ever  shine  so  bright  upon  your  pathway  that  it  seemed 
impossible  that  a  cloud  could  ever  again  arise  so  dense 
as  to  obliterate  its  rays,  and  leave  you  in  the  darkness 
of  its  shadows?  If  so  you  know  better  than  words  can 
portray,  the  bliss  in  which  this  fated  heart  was  reveling. 

A  few  days  later  found  Mr.  Lowe  placing  little  Mil- 
dred in  Marna's  arms  as  she  sat  in  a  railway  coach,  and 
as  he  imprinted  the  good-bye  kiss  upon  the  lips  of  each, 
he  accompanied  it  with  a  promise  to  join  them  at  an 
early  day.  It  had  been  arranged  that  they  should  spend 
some  weeks  at  the  farm  in  B —  where  Marna  had 
ended  her  weary  journey  years  before.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Brockway  had  both  finished  their  life-work  and  had 
been  gathered  home,  and  their  only  child,  the  mother  of 
the  two  little  girls,  had  retained  the  homestead,  and  she 
at  this  time,  with  her  daughter  Julia,  was  living  a 
pleasant  but  retired  life.  Nina,  the  elder,  having 
married,  was  now  Mrs.  Ford,  and  resided  but  a  short 
distance  from  them.  Marna  and  the  two  sisters  had 
never  lost  sight  of  each  other,  and  frequent  exchanges 
of  visits  had  been  made,  and  after  Mildred's  death,  and 
Oak  Grove  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  strangers, 


324  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Marna  looked  upon  this  place  as  her  home,  and  those 
friends  as  being  doubly  dear. 

The  days  passed  pleasantly  at  the  farm,  both  mother 
and  child  enjoying  the  delightful  clover-scented  breeze 
and  the  pure,  bracing  air — the  true  elixir  of  life.  The 
perfume  of  roses  and  honeysuckles,  together  with  the 
dainty  lunches  of  the  best  of  home-made  bread,  the 
early  fruits  and  creamy  milk,  was  bringing  back  the 
tint  of  the  rose  to  the  cheeks  of  both.  But  after  a  few 
weeks  there  came  no  tidings  from  Mr.  Lowe,  and  this 
silence — which  is  the  worst  of  all  suspense — began  to 
unnerve  Marna,  and  forebodings  that  all  was  not  right 
grew  upon  her,  until  her  nights  were  sleepless,  and  her 
days  long  and  full  of  anxiety,  and  when  August  came 
with  its  warm  days  and  chilly  nights,  a  telegram  came, 
saying: 

'^Mrs.Loive : 

"Business  necessitates  your  immediate  return  to  the  city. 

"A. B.  Clauson.'' 

Almost  frantic  with  grief,  Marna  made  hasty  prepara- 
tions to  return  to  the  city,  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  this 
mystery,  her  mind  meanwhile  alternating  between  hope 
and  fear.  At  one  moment  she  would  imagine  the  worst 
of  calamities  had  befallen  him,  and  in  the  next  would 
cast  them  aside  and  make  all  manner  of  plausible 
excuses  as  to  his  absence,  until  her  friends,  deeming  her 
unfit  for  the  journey  alone,  thought  best  that  Mr.  Ford 
should  accompany  her. 

They  found  on  their  arrival  that  all  was  confusion 
among  the  employes.  Lizzie  Vernon^  too,  was  absent — 
had  left  the  same  Saturday  evening  on  which  Mr.  Lowe 
had  gone  to  join  his  wife  at  B  ,  and  she  not  being  in 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


325 


lier  place  on  Monday  morning,  suspicion  was  aroused, 
hence  the  telegram.  Her  room  was  eagerly  sought  by 
Marna,  who  soon  discovered  that  everything  of  value 
belonging  to  her  had  been  removed,  while  Mr.  Lowe's 
entire  wardrobe  was  also  gone;  and  the  thought  of  what 
might  he^  came  upon  her  like  a  sudden,  heavy  clap  of 
thunder,  and  she  fell  writhing  beneath  the  cruel  blow. 
Could  the  vile  midnight  assassin,  in  his  fiendish  heart, 
conceive  a  more  ignoble  mode  of  dealing  out  his  whole- 
sale slaughter  of  happiness  and  peace  than  this  cruel 
deserter? 

Of  the  weeks  and  months  following  this  there  is  no 
need  of  my  pen  attempting  to  tell.  The  torture  of  that 
living  death ;  the  frantic  grief;  the  wild  hopes  and  dis- 
mal fears;  of  the  search  by  every  possible  means, 
rewarded  only  by  a  death-like  silence.  No  words  are 
adequate  to  describe  that  grief.  No  heart  that  has  not 
bathed  in  the  dregs  of  that  same  bitter  cup  can  conceive 
how  much  of  pain  it  can  bear,  and  yet  not  break  when 
held  in  the  loving  hand  of  the  One  who  "  Tempers  th^ 
winds  to  the  shorn  lambs."  ^ 

And  what  is  there  of  peace  for  the  after  years  of  the 
betrayers  of  trust?  Do  our  hearts  go  out  in  revenge 
toward  them?  Ah,  no,  rather  let  us  pity;  for  "Ven- 
geance is  Mine,"  w^as  said  in  the  centuries  long  past,  and 
like  a  wave  it  has  rolled  down  the  ages.  And  if  those 
who,  like  Mr.  Lowe,  have  broken  the  most  sacred  of 
vows,  and  by  persistent  efforts  have  lured  virtue  to  de- 
struction, old  ocean's  waves  may  lave  between  them  and 
their  wronged  ones,  and  yet  amid  its  moans,  the  accus- 
ing voice  is  heard.  Night  may  spread  her  darkest 
mantle  o'er  the  earth,  and  yet  it  cannot  be  hid,  for,  like 


326  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

the  glow-worm,  it  sheds  its  own  light,  while  it  destroys 
its  victim.  The  sheltering  wings  of  London,  Rome,  or 
Paris  cannot  conceal  them  from  the  ever-vigilant  eye  of 
just  retribution,  and  sooner  or  later  it  will  find  their 
hiding-place,  and  then  may  God  pity  them. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


WITH  THE  WOUNDED. 

On  the  evening  following  that  ever  memorable  day 
of  September  15th,  1862,  two  weary  women,  followed 
by  a  boy,  who  was  carrying  their  heavy  satchels,  passed 
up  through  the  crowded,  narrow  streets  of  Burksville. 
The  wild  huzzahs  of  the  crowd,  and  the  roaring  of  cannon 
was  almost  deafening  to  ears  unaccustomed  to  such 
fierce  commotion;  and  as  they  paused  to  rest,  when 
fairly  out  from  the  midst  of  this  din  and  confusion, 
two  officers  in  passing  chanced  to  meet  right  near  them, 
and  as  they  accosted  each  other  the  women  listened  with 
eagerness  to  hear  what  thfey  said,  as  one  addressed  the 
other  in  a  somewhat  hurried  and  excited  manner: 

"  It  is  really  true  that  Burnside  has  forced  the  pass  at 
South  Mountain,  crossed  and  followed  up  the  retreating 
army.  It  was  a  severe  fight,  with  heavy  loss  on  both 
sides,  and  poor  Reno  I  hear  is  killed — another  of  our 
best  generals  gone." 

"  And  Slocum,  from  our  corps,"  rejoined  the  other  in 
the  same  hasty  manner,  "  has  forced  Crampton's  Pass 
in  our  front,  and  is  in  hot  pursuit  with  heavy  loss  to  the 
Rebs— our's  comparatively  light.  That  is  a  terrible 
pass,  and  it  is  almost  incredible  that  any  army  could 
force  it  against  an  opposing  foe.  It  is  in  the  shape  of  a 
triangle:  the  base  being  at  the  top  of  the  mountain — the 
321 


328  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

apex  at  the  bottom.  And  into  this  narrow  point  our 
army  had  to  crowd  its  way  up  a  mountain  which  is 
almost  perpendicular.  Yet,  they  say,  with  cool  determina- 
tion, our  men  forced  their  way  through  the  gap,  meet- 
ing the  musketry  and  artillery  at  every  point.  Brave 
fellows!  arn'tthey?" 

And  with  this  they  separated,  and  the  women  also 
took  up  their  march,  the  boy,  who  knew  the  route 
better  than  they,  going  now  in  advance.  A  few 
moments  later,  they  paused  in  front  of  an  hospital  door, 
just  as  a  man  came  hastily  out.  Mrs.  Ford,  for  she  it 
was,  shrank  back  utterly  powerless  to  speak.  While  in 
the  tall,  graceful  form  by  her  side  we  readily  recognize 
Marna  Lowe,  with  a  settled  look  of  sorrow  upon  her 
pale  face,  which  grew  more  pallid  as  she  saw  her  friend's 
courage  failing,  and  placing  an  arm  supportingly  about 
her  waist,  she  whispered  words  of  comfort.  Then  turn- 
ing to  the  man,  who  had  paused,  and  was  evidently  wait- 
ing to  render  th.em  what  service  he  could,  she  said* 

"  Can  you  tell  us,  sir,  if  we  can  find  Captain  Ford  in 
this  hospital?  His  wife  has  come  in  answer  to  a  tele- 
gram informing  her  of  his  illness,  and  we  learned  upon 
our  arrival  in  the  village  that  it  is  the  result  of  a  wound 
received  while  he  and  his  company  were  skirmisliing 
with  the  enemy's  outposts  at  Harper's  Ferry;  and  as  he 
was  brought  those  seven  long  miles  without  receiving 
attention,  the  loss  of  blood  has  reduced  him  to  such  an 
extent  that  the  most  careful  nursing  was  necessary  to 
restore  him,  and  that  is  why  a  friend  sent  for  his  wife." 

The  Doctor,  for  such  he  was,  (and  who  lived  in  the 
village,  and  had  been  assisting  in  caring  for  the  hun* 
dreds  of  wounded,  whom  the  litter-bearers  had  been  bring- 

f 


With  the:  majesty  of  a  qukrn  she   *   *   bade  him  i,eave 
HER  PRESENCE  FOREVER.    See  page  321 . 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


329 


ing  in  from  the  battle-field  all  the  night  before  and  that 
day),  listened  with  interest,  his  sympathies  evidently 
being  aroused  at  the  sight  of  those  two  pale-faced, 
improtected  women  as  they  stood  there  in  the  gather- 
ing gloom  of  a  coming  storm,  with  the  groans  of  the 
wounded  and  dying  filling  the  air. 

"  I  cannot  tell  whether  he  is  here  or  not;  but  wait 
and  I  will  see,"  and  he  hastened  away. 

Returning  soon,  he  said:  ''He  is  not  here,  but  the 
steward  thinks  he  can  be  found  in  the  next  building.  I 
will  accompany  you." 

Following  him  they  entered  the  vestibule  of  a  large 
old-fashioned  frame  church,  where  he  requested  them 
to  remain  while  he  made  inquiry.  A  few  moments 
later  he  returned  saying: 

"  He  is  here.    Berth  No.  6.    Come  right  along." 

He  leading  the  way,  they  passed  up  the  long  aisle 
scanning  each  berth,  and  glancing  at  the  distorted 
features  of  the  dead  and  dying,  until  heart-sick  and 
faint,  they  fain  would  have  retreated  had  there  been  no 
incentive  more  than  curiosity  impelling  them  onward. 
At  length  they  paused  by  a  cot  bearing  the  number  they 
sought.  The  occupant  was  lying  upon  his  back  with 
his  emaciated  hands  covering  his  face  as  if  to  shut  out 
the  dreadful  sights  about  him. 

"(?A,  my  dear  husband!  Can  this  be  you?"  came 
faintly  from  the  quivering  lips  of  Mrs.  Ford. 

Marna  observing  a  nervous  twitching  of  the  hands  as 
if  about  to  be  removed  from  his  face,  drew  her  gently 
aside,  and  in  a  whisper  said. 

"  Perhaps  the  sudden  shock  of  seeing  us  might  be 
dangerous." 


330  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

The  Doctor,  divining  her  meaning,  went  forward  and 
placing  his  hand  upon  the  forehead  of  the  sick  man, 
inquired  if  he  had  been  resting.  Whereupon  Mr.  Ford 
rose  up  and  leaning  upon  his  elbow  looked  wildly  about, 
and  then  lying  down  again  said  sadly : 

"  Oh,  it  was  only  a  dream  I  suppose;  but  I  thought 
I  heard  my  wife's  voice,  or  felt  her  presence." 

"  Are  you  expecting  her  ?"  asked  the  Doctor,  at  the 
same  time  beckoning  Mrs.  Ford  forward. 

"  Yes !  yes !"  came  almost  peevishly  from  the  sick 
man's  lips. 

The  Doctor  then  told  him  that  some  ladies  were 
coming  that  w^ay  and  they  seemed  to  be  looking  for 
some  one.    "  Perhaps  one  of  them  is  your  wife." 

In  a  moment  more  Mrs.  Ford  w^as  clasped  in  the 
embrace  of  the  overjoyed  man,  and  while  their  tears 
mingled  he  said:  "  Oli^  Nina^  dear  Nina!  I  am  so 
glad  you  have  come.  And  is  this  Marna  Lowe,"  and 
extending  a  hand  to  her,  he  said:  "How  kind  in  you 
to  come.    You  will  both  be  needed  here  very  much." 

That  night  they  did  not  leave  him,  but  all  the  long 
hours  through  they  tried  to  soothe  him  to  sleep.  But 
the  excitement  occasioned  by  their  arrival,  together  with 
the  moans  of  the  sufferers  about  him^  forbade,  until 
near  morning;  and  then  when  weary  Nature  could  hold 
out  no  longer,  he  said: 

"Marna,  I  think  if  you  were  to  sing  1  could  sleep." 

Marna,  ever  ready  to  contribute  to  the  comfort  of 
others,  asked,  "What  shall  I  sing?" 

"  Oh,  anything  to  stifle  those  awful  sounds,"  and  he 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall  while  she  sang  in  low,  sooth- 
ing tones,  "  Guide  me.  Oh,  thou  Great  Jehovah,"  and 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


331 


long  ere  she  had  finished  it  every  moan  in  that  vicinity 
was  hushed,  and  but  faintly  came  tlie  sound  of  distress^ 
from  the  distance,  and  when  she  had  finished,  for  a 
moment  a  death-like  silence  prevaded  all  that  portion 
of  the  room ;  and  then  a  boyish  voice  cried  out:  "  Please 
sing  again,  lady,"  and  following  this  a  score  or  more  of 
voices  called  out,  "  Sing,  sing,"  and  a  faint  voice  called 
out,  "  Sing  '  Rock  of  Ages,'  please." 

Marna's  favorites  were  sacred  songs,  and  her  full,  rich 
voice  was  never  more  charming  than  when  robed  in 
the  pathos  of  those  pieces,  and  as  she  poured  forth  her 
soul's  sweetest  notes  in  that  choicest  of  hymns,  not  a 
moan  was  heard  in  that  vast  room  from  the  suftering 
scores  of  brave  men;  and  we  doubt  if  in  all  the  history 
of  that  old  church,  so  many  hearts  had  ever  thrilled 
beneath  the  power  of  song  or  sermon,  as  were  being 
thrilled  and  soothed,  and  who  knows  but  led  into  a 
higher  life,  than  during  the  singing  of  that  song — which 
was  followed  by  others,  and  others  still,  until  all  seemed 
to  have  bathed  in  the  mesmeric  influence  of  song,  and 
found  rest  in  sleep,  and  then  the  weary  warbler  bowed 
her  head  upon  Nina's  knee,  and  with  nerves  wholly 
unstrung  wept  until  her  eyelids,  too,  closed  in  sleep. 

The  light  of  coming  day  revealed  to  them  that  more 
than  one  pair  of  eyes  had  closed  during  the  night  for 
the  last  time  on  earth,  and  Marna  thought  of  the  sad 
to-morrows  following  sad  to-morrows  for  the  friends 
when  the  news  of  the  death  of  their  loved  ones  should 
be  heralded  over  the  land.  Upon  the  couch  from  whence 
the  faint  voice  came  asking  her  to  sing  "  Rock  of  Ages" 
lay  the  lifeless  form  of  one  from  the  enemy's  ranks, 
and  as  Marna  gazed  upon  his  discolored  and  distorted 


332  A  DARK  P^OT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

features  she  grew  weak  and  pallid,  and  going  to  Nina's 
side  she  said,  "  Oh,  God!  Can  it  be?"  and  taking  her 
by  the  arm  led  her  to  the  bedside  just  as  he  was  being 
taken  away. 

"  Nina,"  she  said,  "  I  fancy  this  face  looks  enough 
like  Mr.  Lowe  to  be  him." 

But  Nina,  who  could  not  see  the  slightest  resem- 
blance, only  said: 

"  Perhaps  it  were  better  if  it  really  was  he." 

"  Yes,"  said  Marna,  sadly,  ''I  would  gladly  know  that 
it  was  and  that  /  had  sang  him  into  his  last  sleep,  were 
it  not  that  he  had  taken  up  arm's  against  his  country." 

"  Even  that,"  responded  Nina,  "  could  be  excused. 
He  may  have  taken  up  his  residence  south  of  Mason 
and  Dixon's  line  and  been  pressed  into  the  service." 

"  I  only  wish  I  knew,"  sighed  Marna,  as  the  men  bore 
his  stiffened  form  out  of  the  room.  "  How  differently 
that  body  should  be  cared  for,  and  if  I  never  hear 
aught  of  him  again  I  shall  always  think  it  was  he." 

"  Water!  Water!  Oh  do  some  one  get  me  some  water, 
quick! " 

These  words  came  to  Marna's  ear  from  a  distant  part 
of  the  room,  and  hastily  taking  the  pitcher  of  fresh 
water  just  brought  for  Mr.  Ford  she  sped  away  in  the 
direction  from  which  the  sound  came.  After  winding 
her  way  among  the  thickly-set  berths  she  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  man,  who  was  still  crying  for  water. 

Marna  gave  him  to  drink  and  then  pouring  some  upon 
the  sponge  which  she  found  upon  tlie  floor  near  by,  she 
bathed  his  burning  temples,  and  wlien  she  was  about  to 
leave  him  he  asked  her  if  slie  could  not  stop  a  moment, 
and  promising  to  come  back  after  she  had  returned  the 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


333 


pitcher,  she  glided  away.  Taking  with  her  her  chair 
she  was  soon  by  his  side  again.  His  thirst  being  sated, 
he  had  fallen  into  a  light  sleep,  and  Marna,  seating  her- 
self, had  time  to  notice  his  face.  He  appeared  to  her 
to  be  a  man  of  full  fifty  years  of  age,  of  rough,  coarse 
features,  with  great  bushy  eyebrows,  while  his  hair  was 
thickly  sprinkled  with  gray,  and  Marna  was  thinking  of 
a  family  which  somewhere  in  the  world  was  longing  to 
hear  from  the  dear  old  father  away  in  the  army,  when 
the  sleeper  awoke  and  looking  intently  at  her  for  a 
moment  said: 

You  have  proved  yourself  to  be  an  angel  of  mercy 
to  more  than  one  poor  fellow  here.  Do  you  know,"  he 
continued,  after  a  short  pause,  that  I  have  to  die?  The 
doctors  say  I  am  fatally  wounded,  aud  cannot  hold  out 
much  longer,  and  I  feel  that  I  am  fast  losing  my  grip 
on  life.  But  it  seems  hard  now  that  it's  really  got  to 
come,  for  all  that  I  have  seen  many  and  many  an  hour 
in  my  life  when  I  would  have  been  glad  to  '  shuffle  off 
this  mortal  coil; '  but  now  when  I  am  about  to  face  it  in 
all  its  stern  realities,  I  feel  a  shrinking  back,  a  dread  of 
meeting  the  Great  Judge  whose  existence  for  years  I 
have  denied — and  yet  I  only  did  that  to  stifle  a  con- 
science that  was  ill  at  ease." 

Here  he  paused,  and  in  that  interval  Marna  asked: 
"Where  is  your  home  and  friends?     Would  you  like 
me  to  write  for  you? " 

Friends f  Friends^  did  you  say?  I  have  not  had  a 
friend  for  years.  I  scarcely  recollect  that  I  ever  had  one 
since  my  mother  died ;  and  as  for  home  I  have  none.  1 
have  been  a  w^anderer  for  years — have  been  in  every 
State  in  the  Union." 


334  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"What  was  I  roaming  for?  To  find  that  place  where 
the  torments  of  a  guilty  conscience  could  not  reach  me." 

^'  Have  you  really  been  so  bad  a  man?  If  so  do  you 
not  know  where  to  go  to  have  those  sins  washed  away, 
leaving  your  soul  as  pure  as  if  you  had  never  sinned  ? 

"  O  that  is  the  old  story,  and  will  do  for  some  people," 
said  the  fast-failing  man;  "but  I  could  not  think  of 
offering  this  miserable  fragment  of  a  wicked  life.  No, 
it  would  be  an  insult  to  my  God,  and  I'll  try  and  brave 
it  through  just  as  I  have  on  earth." 

And  then  he  told  her  of  his  early  life;  how  his  mother 
had  taught  hira  to  pray  and  trust  in  God,  and  that  he 
could  not  remember  when  she  first  took  him  by  the  hand 
and  led  him  to  church  in  the  little  village  of  Springfield, 
Ohio,  and  how  his  faith  in  his  mother's  God  grew  in  his 
young  heart,  until  at  the  age  of  ten  his  mother  died,  and 
he  became  homeless,  and  finding  his  way  out  into  the 
great  world  where  cold  hearts  and  cruel  treatment  caused 
him  to  lose  faith  in  the  protecting  power  of  God." 

"  For  years,"  he  said,  "  I  drifted  about  in  this  way. 
At  last  I  got  a  good  position,  married  and  settled  down. 
Then  I  joined  the  church,  resolved  to  lead  a  Christian 
life;  was  put  in  responsible  places,  both  in  church  and 
Sabbath- school,  but  through  some  misunderstanding 
lost  my  position.  My  employer  circulated  reports 
detrimental  to  my  good  name  as  a  Christian;  the  church 
did  not  investigate  it,  but  gave  me  the  cold  shoulder, 
until  I  began  to  feel  that  it  was  no  longer  a  home  for 
me,  and  I  left  with  no  one  to  say  I  am  sorry  you  arc 
going.  God  knows  I  was  an  innocent  man  then,  and 
one  kind  friend  might  have  saved  me.  Even  my  pastor 
passed  me  without  extending  a  hand.    But  I  found 


A  STORY  OF  REAI.  LIFE.  335 

friends  out  of  the  church,  and  since  then  life  has  been  a 
sad  wreck,  and  now  its  too  late  to  undo  the  past.'' 

Marna  reasoned  long  and  earnestly  with  him,  and 
was  finally  rewarded  by  his  asking  her  to  pray  for  him. 

"  But  before  you  do,  I  must  tell  you  what  it  is  above 
all  else  that  troubles  me,  and  has  for  years."  And  then 
he  began  by  saying: 

"  The  most  of  my  sins  have  been  punished  by  the  law; 
but  there  is  one  that  has  goaded  me  to  desperation,  and 
no  law  has  reached  forth  its  avenging  arm  to  strip  the 
torture  from  my  soul.  It  was  years  ago  in  New  York 
City.  I  was  lured  by  a  wicked  woman  into  kidnapping 
a  child — a  beautiful  little  girl.  I  left  her  with  what  I 
knew  to  be  a  disreputable  woman  in  Pennsylvania. 
After  a  year  or  two,  regretting  it,  I  went  to  the  place, 
intending  to  get  the  child  and  take  her  to  a  better  home, 
but  the  family  had  left  the  place,  and  no  one  knew 
where  they  were,  and  all  my  efforts  to  find  them  were  a 
failure,  and  I  have  often  thought  what  a  shipwreck  I 
made  of  what  might  have  been  a  grand  life,  had  she 
remained  with  the  good  young  woman  who  had  adopted 
her  after  her  mother's  death.  So  you  see  I  have  carried 
this  burning  secret  through  all  these  years,  and  it  has 
been  gnawing  away  at  my  heart  till  I  have  often  prayed 
for  death." 

Marna  observing  that  he  was  becoming  so  exhausted 
as  to  be  unable  to  articulate  intelligibly,  requested  him 
to  rest  for  awhile  now,  and  she  would  come  to  him  again 
soon. 

As  she  wended  her  way  back  to  Mr.  Ford  and  Nina, 
she  encountered  the  gaze  of  a  pair  of  large  brown  eyes, 
which  seemed  to  burn  their  way  down  into  her  very 


336  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

soul.  She  had  met  that  gaze  many  times  during 
the  few  days  of  her  stay  there,  while  passing  around 
ministering  to  the  various  wants  of  the  suffering  ones. 
Somehow  or  other,  go  where  she  would,  she  felt  the 
strange  magnetic  influence  of  those  eyes,  and  would 
involuntarily  glance  in  that  direction,  to  find  them 
earnestly  fixed  upon  her,  and  more  than  once  she 
detected  herself  wishing  that  the  owner  of  those  eyes 
would  show  some  signs  of  suffering,  or  express  a  desire 
which  would  give  her  an  opportunity  of  serving  him. 
But  he  was  calm  and  patient,  not  a  moan  or  a  wish 
escaping  his  pale  lips.  Whenever  Marna  met  those  eyes, 
she  experienced  the  wildest  throbbings  of  the  heart  that 
she  had  ever  known,  and  yet  with  her  naturally  reserved 
manner,  she  seemed  not  to  notice  that  they  were  follow- 
ing her  continually.  At  length  on  the  day  before  the 
one  set  for  their  departure,  as  she  was  passing,  their 
eyes  involuntarily  met,  and  the  confusion  they  both 
felt,  was  evident  to  the  other,  and  by  way  of  excusing 
the  embarrassment,  she,  with  as  much  unconcern  as  she 
could  command,  said: 

"Did  you  speak?  Do  you  wish  anything?" 

Whereupon  the  young  man  said,  with  some  confusion, 
Have  you  a  moment  to  spare  in  which  to  grant  me 
just  one  favor?" 

"  1  have  time  to  do  all  that  lies  in  my  power  to  do 
while  here,  for  the  brave  men  who  have  given  up  all 
for  their — for  my  country.    How  can  I  serve  you?" 

I  received  a  letter  just  as  we  were  ordered  to  march, 
and  that  march  ended  in  that  terrible  fight  at  Cramp- 
ton's  Pass,  and  I  was  brought  here  wounded,  but  not 
mortally — just  enough  to  cause  much  pain  and  incon- 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


337 


yenience — and  I  liave  been  nnable  to  answer  the  letters. 
Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  write  a  few  lines  for  me." 

A  few  moments  later  she  sat  writing  while  he  dic- 
tated, and  a  strange  sense  of  happiness  came  stealing 
over  her,  and  she  would  fain  have  remained  longer  had 
there  been  excuse  for  so  doing.  But  the  task,  which 
was  a  delightful  one,  was  finished,  and  the  letter  was 
sealed  and  directed  to  Dr.  Bein,  of  New  York  City,  and 
the  young  man  expressed  his  gratitude  in  words  fresh 
from  a  heart  throbbing  with  the  tenderest  of  emotions. 
And  as  they  fell  upon  Marna's  ear,  slie  knew  that  an 
intensity  of  love  hitherto  unawakened  in  her  heart  was 
responding  to  all  the  ardor  of  feeling  tliat  his  subdued 
voice  and  eyes  had  expressed,  and  slie  eluded  herself  for 
giving  place  in  her  sorrowing  heart  to  what  she  con- 
sidered an  illegitimate  love;  for  although  deserted  she 
knew  that  the  law  had  not  yet  made  her  free.  Mrs. 
Ford  noticed,  upon  her  return,  that  there  was  an  usual 
glow  upon  her  cheek,  and  felt  greatly  concerned,  fearing 
that  she  was  overtaxing  herself.  Mama  soon  fell  into 
a  deep  reverie,  and  all  day  there  was  a  listless  indiffer- 
ence in  her  manner  which  added  greatly  to  Mrs.  Ford's 
anxiety.  So  preoccupied  was  her  mind  with  the  heart 
battles  she  was  fighting,  that  not  until  the  hour  before 
their  departure  did  she  remember  her  promise  to  the 
old  soldier  who  had  given  her  his  name  as  McClellan, 
and  when  she  sought  his  berth  it  was  vacant^  and  she 
never  knew  his  fate,  but  supposed  he  must  have  died, 
and  as  she  turned  away  she  could  not  refrain  from  tears. 
She  had  stood  beside  the  dead  and  the  dying  before,  but 
had  never  witnessed  the  agony  that  she  had  in  this  man, 
and  yet  she  was  not  altogether  without  hope  for  him,  as 

V 


338  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

in  true  penitence  he  had  asked  her  to  pray  for  him.  On 
her  way  back  as  she  was  passing  tlie  young  man's  cot, 
he  said: 

"  J ust  wait  a  moment,  please,"  and  glad  of  the  oppor- 
tunity, although  she  would  not  have  acknowledged  it 
even  in  her  own  heart,  she  approached  him,  saying: 

"  What  is  your  wish?" 

"  I  would  like,  as  you  are  going  to  leave  us,"  he  said, 
"  to  ask  if  you  would  object  to  giving  me  your  address 
and  that  cluster  of  rose-buds  at  your  throat?  I  can 
look  at  them,  and  think  of  you  when  you  are  miles 
away  and  have  forgotten  the  strange  soldier." 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  ere  Marna  placed  in 
his  hands  the  coveted  rose-buds,  saying: 

"  I  never  can  forget  many  of  the  persons  and  scenes 
of  this  place,  and  certainly  I  cannot  refuse  you  so  small 
a  favor  as  you  ask." 

For  one  brief  moment  he  held  her  hand  as  she  bade 
him  good-bye,  and  as  she  passed  out  the  door,  without 
realizing  it,  she  glanced  back,  and  saw  his  eyes  still 
fixed  upon  her.  He  waved  his  white  hand,  to  which 
she  responded  with  the  same  gesture,  and  was  gone. 
Oh  how  dreary  were  the  nights  and  days  following  this 
in  that  old  church,  and  if  time  failed  in  healing  those 
hearts  it  at  least  soothed  them  to  rest. 

Marna  Lowe  returned  to  her  home  with  higher  and 
brighter  hopes  for  the  future.  She  had  gained  an  in- 
sight into  her  own  heart,  and  knew  more  of  its  nature 
and  capabilities  than  she  had  ever  known  before.  She 
had  been  permitted  to  drink  a  drop  from  that  ocean  of 
bliss,  over  which  the  goddess  of  love  presides,  and  with 
a  settled  conviction  that  sometime  she  should  drink 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE, 


839 


deeper  from  that  same  ocean,  right  cheerfully  did  she 
set  herself  to  work  with  her  little  class  in  music.  Thus 
the  winter  passed,  and  spring  came  with  its  balmy  air 
and  frequent  showers,  and  tlien  she  made  her  annual 
visit  to  the  farm.  Mr.  Ford  and  Nina  were  about  to 
remove  and  make  their  future  home  in  San  Francisco, 
California. 

"Not  yet;  perhaps  I  will  sometime,"  said  Marna 
when  they  urged  her  to  accompany  them.  Mr.  Ford 
had  not  recovered  his  health  sufficient  to  admit  of  his 
returning  to  the  army,  and  thinking  the  pure  air  of  the 
Golden  Gate  would  aid  in  his  restoration  to  health,  had 
decided  to  make  the  trial. 

When  they  were  gone  Marna  returned,  to  take  up 
her  routine  of  duties  lonely  and  sad;  day  by  day  she 
went  on  battling  with  fate,  sometimes  coming  off 
victorious  and  then  again  losing  in  a  succession  of 
battles.  But  the  inner  battles — the  ones  hidden  farthest 
away  from  human  eyes — were  the  hardest  ones  she  had 
to  fight,  and  that  battle-ground  was  often  strewn  with 
dead  hopes  and  wounded  ambitions,  and  yet  she  clung 
tenaciously  to  her  new-born  faith,  and  so  the  years  rolled 
on. 


1  ■■ 


CHAPTEK  XXVI. 


THE  ILL-FATED  PEWABIC. 

It  was  a  bright,  warm  day  in  the  month  of  August. 
1865,  when  Marna,  in  company  with  two  young  ladies, 
whom  she  had  accompanied  to  their  home  in  Clifl 
Mines  for  a  short  vacation.  And  on  this  bright  day, 
as  the  Pewabic,  a  magnificent  Lake  Superior  boat  laden 
with  ore  and  carrying  full  two  hundred  pleasure  and 
health'Seekers,  who  were  on  the  return  of  the  round 
trip,  left  Eagle  River,  she  with  her  two  young  com- 
panions were  numbered  among  the  passengers. 

"  Isn't  she  magnificent?"  said  one  lady  to  another 
when  a  few  moments  later  the  three  new  arrivals  walked 
through  the  cabin  and  out  onto  the  deck. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  one  addressed,  "  but  how  very  sad 
she  looks.  I  should  think  that  some  secret  sorrow  was 
preying  upon  her,  if  vultus  est  index  animV^ 

"Who  now  is  being  slandered?"  said  a  jolly-faced 
youth  as  he  approached  them. 

"No  one;  we  were  admiring  the  magnificent  car- 
riage of  that  lady.    Did  you  observe  it?" 

"Carriage?  I  didn't  see  anyone  with  a  carriage. 
She  hasn't  got  it  on  board  the  boat  I  hope." 

"Now,  brother  Clem,  you  silly  boy,  do  stop  your 
nonsense  long  enough  to  answer  a  civil  question.  Did 
you  notice  that  fine-looking  lady — one  of  the  three  who 

.340 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


341 


got  on  at  Eagle  River?  You  just  met  them  on  the 
deck." 

"  I  noticed  the  one  on  the  off  side.  I  cauglit  her  eye 
and  it  went  whizzing  clear  down  into  my  inner  man 
like  a  fifty-pound  cannon  ball,  and  I  guess  Vm  fatally 
struck.  I'm  going  to  lurk  around  and  see  if  I  can't 
cultivate  her  acquaintance.    By  Jove!  but  she's  neat." 

And  away  he  went  whistling  a  merry  tune.  A  few 
hours  afterward  the  two  ladies  saw  Clem  Hudson,  with 
evident  delight  pointing  out  to  the  trio  the  various  places 
of  interest  and  beauty  along  the  route. 

"Just  like  him,"  remarked  his  sister,  "he  never 
stands  upon  ceremony,  and  in  this  instance  I  am  rather 
pleased  with  his  daring  spirit.  It  will  afford  us  an 
opportunity  of  making  the  acquaintance  of  the  ladies, 
as  I  am  attracted  toward  them.  It  is  so  refreshing  to 
see  new  faces." 

"  Especially  such  pretty  ones,"  said  an  elderly  gentle- 
man of  the  company,  who  had  come  up  just  in  time  to 
hear  the  concluding  remark. 

"Now,  Mr.  Janes,"  said  one  of  the  ladies;  "who 
would  think  that  a  man  of  your  years  would  notice  a 
pretty  face?  But  then,  you  widowers  are  about  as  great 
admirers  of  beauty  as  the  young  men." 

"  Perhaps,"  suggested  the  other  lady,  "  he  thinks  the 
elder  of  the  two  may  be  a  widow  just  out  of  her  weeds." 

"  The  elder?"  said  Mr.  Janes.  "  I  scarcely  know  by 
that  term  which  one  you  mean,  for  I  am  sure  they  all 
look  about  the  same  age,  at  least  one  could  easily  take 
them  for  sisters  ranging  in  the  natural  grade,  as  far  as 
age  is  concerned.  But,  ladies,  honestly,  I  have  no 
thoughts  of  committing  matrimony  at  this  late  day  in 


342 


A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


life;  but  I  must  confess,  once  in  a  long  time,  I  see  a 
face  that  has  strange  attractions  for  me;  but,  as  that  is 
quite  natural  for  men,  and  women,  too,  in  all  stages 
and  conditions  of  life,  whether  single  or  otherwise,  I 
think  nothing  of  it  more  than  to  regard  them  with  a 
little  more  of  tenderness  than  I  do  the  floating  niasses; 
and  the  taller  of  the  three  ladies  in  question  attracted 
me  from  the  moment  she  entered  the  boat.'^ 

Yes;  and  the  little  blue-eyed  one  attracted  brother 
Clem,"  remarked  Miss  Hudson  with  a  gay  little  laugh; 
'^and  T  am  quite  anxious  to  know  into  what  heart  the 
little  black  eyes  have  sent  their  electric  sparks.  O, 
what  tinder-boxes  you  men  carry  about  with  you  and 
call  them  your  hearts;  and  the  worst  of  it  all  is,  they 
are  kept  continually^exposed  to  the  sparks  that  are  fly- 
ing through  the  air.  But  I  will  leave  Miss  Brush  and 
yourself  to  finish  this  conversation,  while  I  meander  up 
to  brother  Clem  and  get  presented  to  the  ladies ;  and 
then  perhaps  I  can  manage  to  get  them  around  to  where 
you  can  have  the  opportunity  of  indulging  those  tender 
regards  for  the  queenly  widow,  if  such  she  should  prove 
to  be."  And  with  this  she  glided  away,  casting  a 
mischievous  little  glance  back  at  Mr.  Janes,  who  gave  a 
chuckling  laugh  as  he  remarked : 

"Just  like  her  brother — chuck  full  of  fun  and  adven- 
ture." 

"  Yes,"  replied  Miss  Brush,  and  just  as  full  of  real 
genuine  afiection.  I  call  her  my  sunbeam—  she  never 
goes  out  of  my  presence  without  leaving  some  bright 
rays.  With  her  peculiarly  vivacious  nature,  and  with 
time  and  means  at  her  command,  she  has  alleviated 
more  suffering  of  both  body  and  mind  than  any  score  of 


A  STORY  OF  REAJ.  LIFE. 


343 


women  in  the  City  of.Detroit.  There  is  scarcely  a  hovel 
there  with  which  she  is  not  familiar.  Sorrow  has  the 
power  to  draw  her  from  pleasure's  gayest  throng,  to  sit 
down  and  mingle  her  tears  of  sympathy  with  the 
bereaved ;  and  the  sad  face  of  the  lady  of  whom  we  were 
speaking  has  aroused  her  sympathetic  nature,  and  I'll 
venture  to  say  that  if  such  a  thing  is  possible,  she  will 
have  her  full  C(^nfidence  before  we  reach  I>etroit,  and 
that  they  will  be  fast  friends  through  the  remainder  of 
life.  She  is  so  true,  so  noble,  so  grand,  and  yet  withal 
so  mirthful,  she  is  my  ideal  of  a  true  Christian." 

"Well,  after  all,"  said  Mr.  Janes,  as  he  led  his  com- 
panion to  a  sofa  and  seated  himself  by  her  side,  "  we 
are  all  constituted  about  alike.  Some,  however,  have 
opportunities  for  the  development  and  growth  of  the 
good — the  real,  natural  Christian  part  of  our  natures — 
and  thereby  grow  strong;  while  others  remain  in  a 
stunted,  dwarfed  condition;  and  others  still  are  sur- 
rounded by  temptations,  and  their  moral  courage  not 
being  sufficient,  they  yield,  and  the  good  becomes  para- 
lyzed, and  with  the  evil  predominating  they  promulgate 
vice  in  all  of  its  hydra-headed  forms,  and  thus  sorrow  is 
brought  to  many  hearts,  and  we  see  sad  faces  wherever 
we  go,  and  they  do  have  the  power  of  awakening  our 
sympathies;  and  this  one,  of  whom  we  were  speaking 
(and  yet  she  looks  to  me  more  weary  than  sad),  has 
peculiar  powers  of  attraction  to  more  than  one  of  the 
passengers. 

"  You  rememoer  the  sick  young  man  from  New  York, 
who  joined  us  at  Marquette  on  our  way  up,  and  who 
entertained  us  one  evening  with  a  description  of  his 
horrible  life  in  Libby  Prison,  where  his  health  became 


344  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

SO  fearfully  undermined?  Well,  I  was  talking  with  him 
when  the  three  came  aboard,  and  as  they  passed  by  tlie 
sofa  where  he  was  lying,  he  raised  upon  his  elbow  and 
with  a  wild,  startled  look  exclaimed:  '  My  God!  can  it 
be,'  and  looking  after  them  until  they  passed  out  of 
sight,  he  settled  back  saying  calmly, '  I  thought  I  knew 
that  lady  between  the  two  young  girls.  She  looks  like 
one  who  spent  some  days  in  a  hospital  where  I  lay 
wounded ;  but  I  may  be  mistaken,  it  is  sometime  since,, 
and  I  have  passed  thro'  so  much  that  memory  fails  me 
in  many  things.  At  any  rate  I  am  too  much  of  a  wreck 
now  to  care  to  renew  an  acquaintance,'  and  he  sighed 
and  closed  his  eyes,  and  I,  sitting  there  a  moment 
longer,  saw  the  great  tears  oozing  through  the  long, 
dark  lashes,  and  feeling  that  there  was  some  great 
burden  of  sorrow  on  his  heart,  I  left  him  alone  with  his 
hidden  mystery,  of  which  she  perchance,  knows  more 
than  you  or  I." 

"  It  is  a  great  wonder,"  said  Miss  Brush,  "  that  my 
little  friend  Ora  Hudson  has  not  gone  to  him  before 
this,  and  ferreted  out  his  sorrow,  and  administered  the 
all-healing  balm  of  her  sympathy.  She  is  such  a  per- 
fect wonder-working  little  creature  in  that  direction." 

"  Perhaps  he  being  a  young  man  has  prevented  her 
approaching  him,"  said  Mr.  Janes,  in  an  absent  way, 
as  his  gaze  seemed  riveted  on  some  object  out  on  deck. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Brush,  turning  her  eyes  in  the  same 
direction ;  "  I  think  she  is  too  zealous  to  do  good,  to 
allow  either  sex  or  position  to  prove  a  barrier  to  her 
work.  But  as  sure  as  I  live,  if  that  isn't  she  promenad- 
ing the  deck  with  an  arm  around  the  waist  of  each  of 
two  of  the  Eagle  River  ladies,  while  the  third — the 


She  ArruoAciii:!)  HIM  saviiskj,  ^^wiiat  is  voukwish?"  Seepage338. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


345 


little  blue-eyed  one — is  left  to  the  tender  n^rcies  of  that 
jolly  Clem.  Now,  you  may  rest  assured  if  that  lady 
and  the  sick  man  have  ever  met  before,  they  are  sure  to 
do  so  again  under  the  careful,  loving  guidance  of  Ora. 
I  wonder  if  she  has  any  idea  how  much  she  has  done 
toward  getting  this  party  of  strangers  acquainted. 
Through  her  nice,  quiet  ways  we  have  been  brought  to 
quite  familiar  terms." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Mr.  Janes,  "  and  I  predict  that 
before  this  trip  ends,  that,  through  her,  half  the 
passengers  will  be  made  acquainted  with  those  ladies; 
and  I  believe  she  has  now  got  them  under  headway  for 
these  quarters." 

This  remark  proved  true,  and  not  long  afterward  the 
little  company  were  talking  in  quite  a  familiar  and 
cheerful  way.  While  thus  engaged  the  young  man 
referred  to  by  Mr.  Janes  walked  slowly  by.  As  he  was 
approaching,  Marna  raised  her  eyes,  meeting  those  of 
the  stranger.  For  a  moment  she  appeared  almost 
paralyzed  and  powerless  to  withdraw  her  gaze,  while  a 
deeper  pallor  overspread  her  face,  following  which  was 
the  crimson  hue  which  settled  in  great  round  spots  on 
either  cheek.  Save  for  the  exchange  of  glances  be- 
tween Mr.  Janes,  and  Miss  Brush  the  incident  passed 
unnoticed. 

As  they  separated  at  the  call  for  dinner  Mr.  Janes, 
acting  as  escort  to  Miss  Brush,  said: 

"  Mrs.  Lowe,  as  I  understand  the  name,  appears  to 
be  quite  a  philosopher,  or  at  least  she  expressed  some 
quite  philosophic  views  regarding  navigation." 

"  Yes,"  responded  his  companion,  '^and  if  I  am  not 
mistaken  she  is  quite  as  much  of  a  heroine  as  she  is  a 


846  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

philosopher.  She,  too,  has  a  hidden  history,  and  if 
she  and  that  gentleman  have  not  met  sometime  in  the 
past  I  am  mistaken.  I  could  but  notice  her  confusion 
at  meeting  him  after  your  remark." 

"  Some  love  affair  of  other  years  I  presume,"  said 
Mr.  Janes  as  they  took  their  seats  at  the  table,  and 
then  in  a  lowered  voice,  as  they  were  in  close  proximity 
to  the  lady,  he  said : 

"  But  few  men  I  think  would  be  able  to  look  upon 
that  face,  and  listen  to  that  voice,  with  indifference. 
She  is  one  of  the  many  ladies  who  will  attract  more 
than  a  passing  interest  wherever  she  may  go." 

"  Ah,  ha,  I  guess  Miss  Ora  was  not  so  far  from  the 
right  after  all,  wlien  she  spoke  of  the  tinder-boxes," 
said  the  young  lady  with  some  show  of  mirth,  "but 
really,  Mr.  Janes,  I  think  you  are  quite  in  the  right 
respecting  the  lady  in  question,  for  I  myself  am  quite 
fascinated,  and  if  I  w^ere  of  the  opposite  sex,  might  be- 
come really  infatuated." 

With  these  remarks  the  subject  was  dismissed  and  a 
more  general  conversation  followed.  The  evening,  as 
the  preceding  ones  had  been,  was  spent  in  music, 
dancing  and  games,  and  the  days  following  found  the 
health  and  pleasure  seekers  becoming  better  acquainted, 
and  links  of  friendship  were  being  welded  that  were  to 
form  a  chain  reaching  out  through  time,  into  the  bound- 
less ocean  of  eternity.  The  invalid  young  man,  how- 
ever, was  closely  confined  to  his  state-room  during  those 
days,  and  save  from  an  occasional  visit  from  some  of 
the  gentlemen,  and  the  sound  of  Marna's  voice,  as  it 
floated  in  its  sweetest  strains  of  song  into  the  listener'a 
ear,  the  quiet  of  his  hours  was  unbroken. 


.1  REAL  LIFE. 


347 


"  Come,  Mrs.  Lowe,  let  us  Imve  some  music,"  said 
Ora  Hudson,  as  they  turned  away  from  watching  the 
sun  sink  away  in  its  cahn  splendor  on  the  evening  of 
the  8th;  "the  Captain  says  that  in  less  than  two  hours 
we  will  meet  the  Meteor,  and  to  relieve  the  monotony 
they  will  pass  near  enough  to  exchange  a  friendly  '  hail.' 
He  thinks  that  will  be  a  better  change,  and  an  easier 
task  than  getting  up  a  storm,  as  our  friend,  Miss  Ramsey, 
here  suggested,  and  to  while  away  the  time  and  quiet 
our  jubilant  spirits,  which  have  risen  to  a  higher  alti- 
tude, quite  above  their  native  sphere,  at  the  near 
approach  of  home  and  friends,  so  I  move  we  adjourn  to 
the  cabin  and  have  some  music,  and  perhaps  a  little 
hop." 

"  I  second  the  motion,"  cried  a  score  of  voices,  and 
away  they  sped,  while  the  merry  ripple  of  joyous 
laughter  rang  out  upon  the  calm  waters  of  Lake  Huron. 
A  moment  later  and  Marna  Lowe's  clear  voice  was 
heard  in  battle  song,  which  was  joined  in  chorus  by 
almost  every  voice.  Song  after  song,  of  those  soul  stir- 
ring airs  were  sung,  songs  that  had  thrilled  many  a  brave 
boy's  heart  as  he  took  up  his  last  march,  and  yet  not  a 
soul  in  that  assembly  knew  that  very  soon,  the  great 
battle  would  be  fought  by  them,  from  which  some  would 
come  out  victorious,  while  many,  alas!  very  many,  would 
never  see  the  rising  of  the  sun,  which  had  just  set  in  so 
much  splendor.  A  battle  bringing  with  it  as  deep 
anguish,  for  many  hearts,  as  those  so  recently  fought 
"by  our  brave  boys  in  blue.  In  the  early  dusk  of  that 
jjalm  evening,  on  Huron's  broadest  breast,  just  out  from 
"Thunder  Bay  Light  House,"  the  two  propellers  met, 
and  by  some  misunderstanding  of  signals,  they  came 


348  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

together  witli  a  sudden  crash,  and  many  of  my  readers- 
hearts,  at  the  mention  of  the  names  Pewabic  and  Meteor, 
will  feel  anew  that  thrill  of  horror,  and  wounds  which 
Time's  healing  hand  has  soothed,  will  be  torn  open  and 
bleed  afresh,  and  in  pity,  over  hearts  with  deeper  wounds 
than  ours,  we  fain  would  draw  the  veil,  and  in  union 
with  the  silent  waters  keep  the  secrets  of  that  night  of 
terror.  Amid  the  inevitable  panic,  following  so  unex- 
pected and  appalling  a  catastrophe,  there  was  but  one 
of  that  company  of  ladies  possessed  of  self  control,  her 
presence  of  mind  and  cool  judgment  surpassing  that  of 
the  bravest  hero  of  any  battle  field.  With  steady  hands 
and  soothing  words,  she  adjusted  the  life-preservers,  for 
many  whose  excitement  rendered  them  unable  to  put 
them  on  properly.  And  as  it  had  become  apparent  that 
the  vessel  must  sink,  h^r  wisdom  dictated  that  they  get 
away  from  the  wreck.  -30,  hastily  bidding  tiiem  follow 
her,  she  flew  to  the  stern  of  the  rapidly  sinking  vessel, 
and  then  with  a  clear,  ringing  voice,  she  cried  out : 
"  Courage  friends,  follow  on,"  and  she  leaped  into  the 
dark  waters,  followed  by  some  who  sank  to  rise  no  more. 
But  some  there  are,  to-day,  who  can  assert  that  they 
owe  their  lives  to  the  calmness,  intrepidity,  and  skill  in 
swimming,  to  Miss  Adelade  Brush,  who,  by  the  aid  of 
the  floating  wreck,  kept  them,  when  distracted  and  terror 
stricken,  afloat  until  the  life  boats  from  the  Meteor 
came  to  their  rescue.  Marna  Lowe  was  one  of  the 
number  following  Miss  Brush  as  she  left  the  vessel,  and 
by  her  words  of  cheer  and  aid  in  securing  a  plank,  by 
which  she  was  enabled  to  keep  afloat  for  a  time,  when 
an  immense  piece  of  the  wreck,  sweeping  over  her, 
carried  away  her  frail  support.    But  with  the  word*  of 


''Help  me  get  this  woman  up,"  said  one  of  the  men  to  the 
OTHER.    See  page  349. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  349 

cheer  ringing  out  above  the  din,  she  took  new  courage, 
and  seizing  hold  of  one  piece  of  wreck  after  another,  as 
she  was  being  tossed  about  by  the  floating  mass,  some- 
times for  an  instant  being  entirely  submerged.  At 
length  she  found  herself  near  a  large  piece  of  wreck, 
upon  which  two  men  were  seated. 

"  Help  me  get  this  woman  up,"  said  one  of  the  men 
to  the  otlier.  "  I  have  but  little  strength,  but  we  can 
save  her."  After  some  time,  struggling  with  the  shifting 
wreck,  they  managed  to  get  hold  of  her  garments,  and 
by  this  means  succeeded  in  getting  her  safely  landed  by 
their  side.  This  was  no  sooner  done  than  thecry  of  "  O, 
save  me,  save  me,"  came,  as  the  last  agonizing  cry  of 
the  much  admired  and  gifted  Miss  Julia  Ramsey,  and 
before  aid  could  be  extended,  she  sank  to  rise  no  more. 
That  same  wailing  appeal  was  ringing  through  the  air 
and  out  o'er  the  waters,  in  all  directions,  falling  only  upon 
the  ear  of  those  who  had  no  power  to  save. 

"  We  are  not  saved  yet,"  said  the  man  by  Marna's 
side.  "  It  may  be  that  the  All  Wise  One  is  only  giving 
us  one  more  brief  moment  in  which  to  prepare  to  meet 
our  eternal  doom.  It  is  hard  for  me  to  realize  that  this 
may  be  the  last  of  life.  I  have  been  spared  through 
many  battles,  while  whole  acres  of  men  have  been 
mown  down  like  grass  around  me  ;  have  withstood  the 
ravages  of  disease,  and  have  been  through  all  the  horrors 
of  Libby  Prison,  and  saved  in  railroad  wrecks  when 
those  by  my  side  were  crushed  and  mangled.  I  have 
thought  sometimes,  that  I  had  some  God-given  mission 
to  fulfill  on  earth,  and  if  that  be  true,  I  shall  yet  be 
spared,  for  I  know  of  nothing  of  the  kind  that  I  have 


450  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Perhaps,"  enjoined  Marna,  *'if  I  am  saved  and  you 
are  taken,  your  mission  will  prove  tlie  saving  of  a  life 
that  may  have  a  mission  still  farther  out  in  life's  jour- 
ney." 

Just  at  this  moment  there  came,  wafted  over  that 
scene  of  agony,  the  sound  of  song,  and  Marna,  catching 
the  words  and  the  inspiration,  joined  her  voice  in  "  Rock 
of  ages,  cleft  for  me,"  and  once  again  souls  went  into 
the  Great  Beyond  with  those  words,  in  her  voice,  falling 
upon  their  ears,  as  they  had  in  the  old  church  at  Burks- 
ville.  It  was  a  strange  sound  to  hear  voices  that  were 
struggling  in  the  agonies  of  death — voices  which,  per- 
haps, had  never  ventured  forth  in  song  before,  as  they 
caught  up  the  words,  and  then  dying  out  as  suddenly,  to 
be  heard  no  more.  Yet,  out  on  the  waters,  in  the  dark- 
ness arose  above  the  wild  despairing  cries,  the  words, 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee,"  and  then  a  little  fur- 
ther on,  "Thou  must  save  and  Thou  alone."  And  then, 
where  the  wails  and  the  groans  were  the  thickest,  was 
heard:  "In  my  hands  no  price  I  bring,"  and  then  a 
survivor's  ear  was  greeted  by  a  voice  she  thought  she 
recognized  as  that  of  the  sprightly  Ora  Hudson:  "  Sim- 
ply to  Thy  cross  I  cling,"  and  she  sank  to  rise  no  more. 

After  the  hymn  had  been  repeated  many  times.  Mama 
turned  to  the  gentleman  by  her  side,  saying,  "  I  have 
often  wondered  if  the  spirit  of  Toplady,  the  composer  of 
t!hose  words,  in  peering  over  the  battlements  of  the 
heavenly  world,  is  not  greeted  every  hour  by  souls  com- 
ing up  from  earth  with  his  grand  words  trembling  on 
their  lips." 

The  young  man  made  no  response.  His  soul  was  too 
ieeply  stirred  for  words.     He  had  heard  that  same 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE, 


361 


voice  in  those  same  words  once  before,  and  he  now  knew 
that  he  was  in  the  presence  of  the  one  woman,  who  alone 
had  the  power  to  awaken  the  holiest  passions  of  his 
heart,  and  while  he  was  striving  to  frame  his  thoughts 
into  words,  and  make  known  to  her  the  fond  liopes  he 
had  cherished  through  the  years,*  of  meeting  her  again, 
a  rope  was  thrown  to  Marna,  from  the  Meteor,  with 
instructions  to  fasten  it  firmly  about  her  waist  and  let 
herself,  without  delay,  down  into  the  water  and  they 
would  take  her  aboard.  All  prior  terrors  seemed  small 
in  comparison  with  this.  Before,  it  had  been  a  leap  and 
a  struggle  for  life,  when  death  seemed  inevitable.  Now 
she  had  grown  more  calm,  if  calmness  it  could  be  called, 
and  to  go  down  once  more  to  battle  with  the  waters  and 
floating  mass,  looked  like  suicide.  But,  with  a  prayer 
trembling  upon  her  lips,  she  dropped  out  of  the  sight  of 
her  rescuers. 

The  morning  dawned  clear  and  bright.  The  sun 
came  up  as  calmly  as  it  had  gone  down  the  evening 
before.  The  Meteor's  crew  and  passengers  had  been 
busy  all  through  the  long  hours  of  the  night,  gathering 
up  and  caring  for  the  perishing,  with  all  the  tenderness 
of  loving  human  hearts.  And  hearts  not  much  given 
to  love  and  tenderness  for  many  years,  were  touched  and 
melted  by  the  awful  scene.  Quiet  reigned  at  the  dawn- 
ing hour,  and,  save  for  the  floating  wreck,  the  quiet  step, 
and  saddened  air  of  those  upon  the  Meteor's  decks,  one 
would  not  have  dreamed  that  so  many  hopes  and  aspira- 
tions had  found  their  earthly  terminus  there,  and  that 
the  wildest  of  1j@rror,  and  the  sweetest  exhibitions  of 
faith  in  God  had  prevailed  there  during  the  dark  hours 
«f  the  night.    The  Mohawk  coming  to  th@  relief,  M^^-na 


352  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


Lowe,  with  others,  was  taken  aboard.  Of  that  night 
as  she  said  in  after  years,  all  recollections  ended  with 
that  last  dreadful  sensation  of  letting  herself  down  from 
the  wreck,  until  being  cared  for  by  kind  friends  the  fol- 
lowing day,  in  Marine  City.  With  a  saddened  heart 
and  wrecked  nerves,  discouraged,  penniless  and  alone, 
her  two  young  companions  being  left  to  sleep  their 
long  dreamless  sleep  on  Huron's  queenly  breast,  after 
having  been  to  see  little  Mildred  and  the  friends  on 

the  farm  in  B  she  returned  to  take  up  once  more 

her  routine  of  cares  and  duties.  And  even  while  sur- 
rounded by  kind  friends,  she  often  felt  that  vague  lone- 
liness  of  heart  that  is  so  near  akin  to  despair,  and  in 
such  hours,  while  looking  over  her  eventful  life,  she 
would  exclaim:  ''What  is  it  all  for  ?  Why  am  I  here 
to  suffer  alone?  Who  has  sown  this  great  field  of  sorrow 
for  me  to  reap  ?  Was  that  vile,  wretched  woman,  my 
mother,  and  am  I  to  suffer  for  her  sins  ?  No!  no!  it 
cannot  be  that  she  gave  me  to  the  world.  I  know,  for 
I  feel  it  so,  that  purer  lips  than  she  has  ever  known 
were  pressed  upon  my  infant  brow.  Arms  in  which  sin 
had  never  been  embraced,  enfolded  me,  and  a  heart  that 
knew  and  loved  its  God,  has  poured  its  wealth  of  love 
in  mine,  and  in  the  arms  of  this  faith  will  I  rest,  O, 
mother,  on  earth  or  in  heaven,  until  thou  art  given  back 
to  thy  sorrowing  child  once  more. 


CHAPTER  XXTII.  ■ 

AN  UNEXPECTED  VOYAGE. 

One  bright  morning  in  the  early  spring  of  1869,  as 
Marna,  weary  and  worn,  by  the  hardships  and  privations 
of  the  winter,  was  walking  slowly  back  and  forth,  across 
her  school  room,  feeling  that  depression  of  spirits, 
attendant  upon  overtaxed  nature,  a  light  tap  upon 
the  door  aroused  her  from  her  reverie,  and  upon  open- 
ing it,  a  letter  was  handed  her,  bearing  the  postmark 
of  San  Francisco,  Cal.  Hastily  tearing  it  open,  she 
read: 
"Dear  Marna: 

We  are  going  to  London.  Husband  is  going  on  business,  and 
wishes  me  to  accompany  him,  and  we  insist  upon  your  dismissing 
your  class,  for  a  time,  and  taking  a  trip  with  us.  We  will  only  be 
too  happy  to  defray  all  expenses,  fo'*  *3ie  sake  of  your  company. 
Take  Mildred  to  Mother;  she,  and  sisrer  Julia,  will  gladly  care  for 
her  during  your  absence.  Meet  us  at  the  Metropolitan  Hotel,  New 
York  City,  May  16th.   We  shall  expect  you. 

Hastily  and  lovingly  yours, 
Nina  Ford." 

After  some  deliberation,  and  consultations  with  many 
friends,  Marna  decided  to  avail  herself  of  the  proffered 
kindness.  Mrs.  Benton  and  Julia  cheerfully  acquiescing 
with  Nina's  plans,  in  taking  charge  of  Mildred.  In  a 
few  days  Marna  was  on  her  way,  with  a  feeling  that  she 
was  about  to  realize,  in  a  measure,  some  of  the  dreams 
of  her  girlhood,  when  Europe  was  pictured  in  her  mind 
as  the  summit  upon  which  she  should  realize  her  highest 
ospiirations*  Butj  aiaBi  the  akange  since  then.  Hei* 
853  18 


854  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

once  soaring  ambition  had  folded  its  clipped  and  tired 
wings,  her  glad  song  had  been  hushed,  by  the  hand  of 
the  dreary  Past — the  blow  dealt  by  the  one  who  had 
vowed  to  love  and  protect,  had  blighted  her  life  buds, 
&te  they  had  given  their  full  fragrance  to  the  air,  and 
the  gay  laughter  that  had  once  resounded  through  the 
spacious  halls  at  Oak  Grove,  had  no  echo,  reaching  out 
over  the  melancholy  wastes  of  the  intervening  years. 
Oak  Grove  had  been  the  only  home  of  peace^  she  had 
ever  known,  and  go  where  she  would)  she  had  never  got 
beyond  its  overghadowitig  arch* 

The  Voyage  proved  a  pleasant  one,  and  the  new  sights 
of  Liverpool  and  London  had  a  charm  for  her  that  drew 
the  magic  wand  of  forge tfulness,  for  the  time  being, 
over  Memory^s  Reared  pages.  Crystal  Palace,  with  its 
endless  variety  to  charm  the  eye,  and  enthuse  the  heart, 
was  where  many  delightful  and  profitable  hours  were 
spent.  It  chanced,  during  their  stay,  that  a  grand  fete 
was  given  in  honor  of  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt,  and  while 
mingling  with  that  vast  assembly  of  forty  thousand 
persons,  she  involuntarily  started.  Nina,  observing  the 
movement,  said  in  an  undertone  : 
What  is  it,  Mama?" 

Nothing,  except  I  fancied  I  saw  Mr.  Lowe.  There  is 
some  one  here,  looks  just  as  I  imagine  he  would  by  this 
time;  I  have  noticed  him  in  the  distance  every  time  I 
have  been  here;  I  only  wish  I  could  be  near  enough  to 
be  certain  whether  it  really  is  he." 

"  What  would  you  do,"  said  Nina,  "  should  it  prove 
to  be  your  recreant  lord?  " 

"Do?  I  would  go  down  on  my  knees,  and  beg  him  to 
return  to  his  family,  for  Mildred's  sake,  however,  more 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


355 


than  my  own,  I  can  battle  on  the  rest  of  my  life;  but 
she,  poor  child,  will  be  alone  when  I  am  gone." 

What?"  said  Nina.  "  You  are  not  contemplating  a 
trip  to  Egypt,  are  you,  as  one  of  the  Viceroy's  body  of 
peers?  If  so,  we  will  promise  faithfully  to  look  after 
the  interests  of  Mildred,  so  you  need  not  worry  on  her 
account." 

This  piece  of  satire  concluded,  with  a  curl  of  scorn 
upon  her  lips,  she  continued: 

^'  Down  on  your  knees,  Marna  Lowe — never,  never, 
let  me  hear  you  say  that  again.  Down  on  your  knees, 
to  the  vile  wretch  who  has  stabbed  your  existence  to  the 
very  heart,  and  left  it  bleeding  at  the  feet  of  Mercy. 
But  come,  cheer  up.  The  concert,  which  is  a  part  of 
the  day's  programme,  is  about  to  begin,  and  here  comes 
Mr.  Ford,  accompanied  by  our  friend,  Mr.  Bowe." 

The  two  gentlemen  came  up,  and  escorted  the  ladies 
to  their  seats  in  the  concert,  just  in  time  to  witness  the 
entrance  of  the  Viceroy  of  Egypt.  The  Prince  and 
Princess  of  Wales,  and  a  train  of  Peers  and  Noblemen, 
who,  as  they,  with  glittering  pomp,  entered  the  Royal 
box,  were  greeted  from  the  Band  with  "  God  save  the 
Queen ;  "  and  ere  the  last  notes  had  ceased  to  resound, 
through  that  great  amphitheatre,  the  enthusiasm  had 
reached  the  highest  point  of  excitement,  which  only 
subsided  as  the  two  thousand  voiced  choir  poured  out 
their  melody  in  concert  of  song.  During  this  hour 
Marna  was  so  wholly  entranced,  as  not  to  realize  that, 
but  a  short  distance  away,  a  pair  of  dark-brown  eyes 
were  fixed  intently  upon  her,  trying  to  read  in  her 
luminous  orbs  some  page  of  memory,  past. 

No/'  said  the  owner  of  those  eyes,  to  himself,  and 


356  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

whom  we  shall  call  Charles  Austin;  "  It  can  not  be,  and 
yet,  how  very  like;  there  is  the  same  sad  eyes,  the  same 
majestic  mien.  But  how  came  she  here?  Well,  how 
came  I  here?  I  will  seek  her  out  at  all  hazards  when 
the  concert  is  over;  and  if  it  is  she,  I  will  ask  for  her 
address  and  an  interview,  and  seal  my  fate  for  all  time, 
either  with,or  forever,  separate,  from  the  only  one  on  earth 
that  I  have  ever  loved.  O,  cruel  fate,  why  follow  me, 
to  thwart,  my  every  purpose  in  life?"  said  he  to  himself, 
as  the  surging,  swaying  crowd  closed  in  between  him,  and 
Marna  Lowe,  till  losing  sight  of  her  entirely  he,  then  con- 
soled himself  with  the  thought,  that  he  would  come  again 
in  the  evening,  w^hen,  perhaps,  he  would  have  another 
opportunity  of  seeing  her. 

The  evening  came  with  its  music;  the  fountain  jets 
throwing  out  fantastic,  pearly  streams,  illuminated  with 
all  the  gorgeous  hues  knowm  to  nature  or  art.  The  sight 
was  one  of  grand  splendor,  never  to  be  forgotten  by 
those  present,  and  again  Marna  Lowe  was  there,  and 
again  were  those  dark  eyes  fixed  upon  her  face,  but  at 
so  great  a  distance  that  no  hope  of  meeting  her  was 
entertained.  And  again,  as  before,  Marna  Lowe  felt 
that  somewhere  in  that  assembly  some  one  was  holding 
pleasant  mesmeric  power  over  her;  and  as  she  took  the 
arm  of  Mr.  Bowe,  to  leave,  on  this  their  last  visit  to 
Crystal  Palace,  she  gave  one  last,  long,  lingering,  look- 
out over  that  sea  of  faces,  and  then,  with  a  sigh,  she 
said: 

"  I  have  found  it  very  pleasant  to  be  here.  The  very 
atmosphere  seems  laden,  with  a  hallowed  joy,  that  I  am 
conscious  of,  yet  seldom  have  experienced." 

If  Mr.  Bowe  felt  a  thrill  ef  BleaBure  permeating  hi* 


She  was  all  I  had  on  earth,  and  when  shk  was  gone,  the 
WORLD  was  one  of  DARKEST  GLOOM."   See  page  359. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


357 


heart,  (as  witli  this  remark  Marna  tightened  her  liold 
ahnost  with  a  tender  pressure  upon  his  arm,  as  tliey 
walked  silently  away  from  this  brilliant  scene),  it  is 
nothing  strange,  unless  he  was  not  of  that  class  of 
gallants  who  lay  the  flattering  unction  to  their  hearts, 
that  all  tender  words  spoken  in  their  presence  are 
designed  especially  for  them.  Hampton  Court  Palace 
with  its  antique  grandeur,  and  its  crown  of  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  perched  upon  its  domes,  told  our 
little  company  weird  tales  of  the  days  of  King  Henry 
the  Eighth,  and  when  the  exhibitions  at  the  Botanical 
Gardens  and  their  visits  at  tlic  Zoological  Gardens, 
Westminster  Abby,  Greenwich,  the  Invalid  Seamen's 
Hospital,  the  Royal  Observatory,  founded  by  George 
the  Third,  had  all  passed  by  with  their  pleasures,  and 
their  lessons,  Mr.  Ford  declared  his  readiness  to  return 
to  America  whenever  the  ladies  were  willing.  To  which 
Nina  gave  her  sanction,  saying: 

"  It  is  now  over  three  months  since  we  left  San 
Francisco,  and  as  1  desire  to  spend  a  few  weeks  with 
mother  at  the  old  farm-home  before  returning,  per- 
haps it  is  best  that  we  start  at  as  early  a  day  as 
is  convenient.  What  say  you,  Marna,  to  the  day  after 
to-morrow?  as  that  is  the  day  that  the  "City  of  Boston'^ 
will  sail,  the  steamer  on  w^iicli  we  came  over." 

"  I  shall  be  ready  at  whatever  time  Mr.  Ford  and 
yourself  agree  upon." 

But  down  deep  in  Marna's  heart  there  was  a  longing 
to  see  more  of  the  old  world.  She  was  beginning 
to  feel  the  fascinations  of  the  new  life  and  she 
shuddered  when  she  thought  of  returning  and  taking 
up  her  burthens  again,  and  she  wished  that  the  great 


358  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY', 

ocean  might  forever  roll  between  her  and  those  burdens. 
But  her  child,  her  darling  Mildred,  was  in  that  land 
where  her  burthens  lay,  and  this  alone  reconciled  her  to 
the  prospect  of  returning. 

"  If  I  but  had  her  with  me,"  she  said  to  herself  while 
making  ready  for  the  journey,  "  I  would  never  touch 
America's  soil  again,  for  I  believe  that  somewhere  in 
this  land  I  could  find  the  means  of  support,  and  then  I 
should  feel  that  my  history  was  not  known  by  every  one 
with  whom  I  met.  But,  no,"  she  continued,  "  there  is 
nothing  for  me  but  to  go  back  and  take  up  the  old  hope- 
less song  and  dreary  life  again,  and  patiently  wait.  Tesy 
wait  if  need  be,  until  eternity  shall  give  me  back  my 
peace.  Other  hearts  have  said,  and  are  saying  every 
hour  somewhere  on  God's  broad  earth,  '  I  will  wait,  I 
will  bide  my  time.'  O,  what  throes  of  utter  desolation 
the  heart  must  feel  in  giving  birth  to  these  sad  words. 
No,  Marna  Lowe,  thy  cup,  although  full  to  the  very 
brim,  has  yet  to  receive  another  drop — and  that  one  drop 
will  serve  to  concentrate  the  whole  of  bitterness  that  thy 
cup  contains,  and  thy  powerless  lips  must  drink  the  very 
dregs." 

It  was  at  the  close  of  another  bright  warm  day  in 
August,  that,  for  Marna,  fatal  month,  that  the  steamer. 
City  of  Boston,  landed  our  little  company  safe  in  New 
York,  with  greatly  improved  health  and  spirits.  Going 
hastily  through  the  halls  at  the  Metropolitan  Hotel,  to 
the  reception  room  where  their  mail,  as  was  directed^ 
was  in  waiting,  and  as  each  glanced  hastily  over  the 
missives  of  greeting  from  friends,  they  were  startled  by 
one  loud  piercing  shriek,  which  thrilled  through  every 
heart  and  echoed  from  room  to  room.    "Oh,  my  child,'^ 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


359 


and  Marna  Lowe  fell  heavily  to  the  floor.  Friends 
clustered  about  the  fainting  form.  Kind  strangers  aided 
in  ministering  to  her  until  consciousness  was  restored, 
and  then  many  eyes  grew  dim  with  tears,  and  many 
hearts  beat  in  sympathy  as  Mrs.  Ford  read  from  the 
telegram,  which  had  fallen  to  the  floor: 

"Dear  MilHe  died  this  morDiDg.  We  await  your  arrival." 
Marna  was  wholly  unprepared  for  this  sudden  shock, 
as  letters  containing  information  of  her  dangerous  ill- 
ness lay  beneath  the  telegram,  and  when  she  was 
somewhat  soothed  to  quiet,  by  her  request,  Nina  read 
extracts  of  her  letters,  and  when  she  read: 

"  I  would  that  you  were  here  Marna,  for  all  through  the  day  and 
night  the  little  sufferer  is  calling,  *  Mama,  come  home,*  *  Mama, 
your  Millie  wants  you,*  *0h,  pretty  mama,  do  come  to  your  little 
sick  girl.*  ** 

Her  grief  was  beyond  control,  and  convulsion  after 
convulsion  followed,  until  the  attending  physician  feared 
that  her  grief  would  end  in  death.  And  when  in  later 
years  the  writer  of  this  narrative  stood  one  bright  May 
morning  with  that  mother  beside  a  little  mound  covered 
with  violets  and  daisies  and  saw  her  tears  flow  afresh,  as 
she  said  in  tones  of  anguish,  "  She  was  all  I  had  on 
earth,  and  to  her  I  had  given  the  entire  love  of  my  heart, 
and  when  she  was  gone  the  world  was  one  of  darkest 
gloom.  And,  oh,  how  I  have  prayed  to  be  taken  from 
it."  And  we  strove  to  comfort  her  by  telling  of  the 
Alpine  Shepard,  how  when  he  wishes  to  take  his  flock 
to  higher  grounds,  where  greener  pastures  grow,  he 
takes  the  little  tender  lambs,  knowing  well  that  the 
mothers  will  follow  their  bleatings.  And  so  the  Great 
Shepherd  takes  our  loved  one&  that  we  may  be  led  into 


S60  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCtETV. 

the  green  pastures  of  everlasting  life  in  the  Heavenly 
land.  And  with  this  thought  expressed  there  came 
great  solace  to  our  own  heart,  for  we  too,  were  sitting  in 
the  shadow  of  a  great  sorrow,  and  near  by  was  a  newer 
made  grave,  down  into  which  we  had  looked  as  the  gather- 
ing darkness  closed  in  upon  our  heart.  Plucking  from 
each  of  those  mounds  a  violet  and  daisy  we  turned  away 
in  silence,  to  await  that  coming  morning  when  every  link 
in  Love's  chain  shall  be  reunitQd  by  a  loving  hand  that 
made — that  holds  —  and  shall  forever  control  our 
destiny. 


The  disheartened  man's  life  was  ended.    See  page  369.  * 


CHAPTER  XXVIIl 


IN  SAN  FRANCISCO. 

"  Nina,  can  you  tell  me  who  lives  in  that  cottage 
across  the  way?"  said  Marna  Lowe,  who  had  consented 
after  many  pressing  invitations,  to  spend  an  indefinite 
length  of  time  with  her  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ford,  in 
their  pleasant  home  on  Harrison  i  treet,  San  Francisco, 
who,  as  an  inducement  for  her  comlii-,,  had  secured  for 
her  a  large  class,  in  music,  and  had  directed  the  fitting 
up  in  quite  a  pretentious  style,  a  large  hall  for  her  occu- 
pation as  a  music  room. 

Mrs.  Ford  answered  her  question  by  saying,  "  Wm. 
Bradly,  a  lawyer,  lives  there.  You  have  heard  me 
speak  of  the  sick  lady  whom  I  visit  almost  daily.  She 
is  his  wife,  and  her  mother  who  is  living  with  them, 
was  attacked  a  few  days  since  with  iiiflamatory  rheuma- 
tism, and  is  as  helpless  as  a  babe.  I  was  in  this  morn- 
ing and  found  them  both  in  quite  low  spirits,  on  account 
of  their  nurse  being  called  away.  I  told  them  I  would 
come  in  and  sit  awhile  with  them  this  evening,  and  they 
requested  that  you  accompany  me. 
"They  are  two  lovely  Christian  women,  and  you  can 
but  be  charmed  with  them.  Of  course,  Marna,  you 
can  afford  to  throw  aside  any  scruples  you  may  have,  as 
to  the  propriety  of  making  the  first  call,  as  Mrs.  Bradly 
has  been  ill  the  most  of  the  time  since  you  have  been 
here,  and  she  and  her  mother  are  both  quite  desirous  of 
making  your  acquaintance." 


3b J  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

^^I  will  be  pleased  to  go  with  you,"  said  Marna,  and 
then  with  as  much  indifference  as  she  could  assume,  still 
standing  at  the  window,  looking  in  the  direction  of  the 
neat  little  cottage,  with  its  fresh  paint  and  clinging 
vines,  she  continued.  "  How  long  have  they  lived  here?" 
to  which  Mrs.  Ford  answered  hastily,  as  she  was  going 
in  answer  to  a  summons  to  meet  friends  in  the  drawing- 
room. 

"  They  must  have  lived  here  for  some  time,  for  she 
was  here  during  the  time  that  he  was  in  the  army." 

"Then  he  was  in  the  war,  was  he?"  said  Mama, 
eagerly. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Ford,  as  she  passed  into  the  hall. 
"  He  fought  beside  many  of  the  brave  boys  who  went 
down  from  Shiloh  '  through  the  valley  and  shadow.'  " 

Mama  remained  some  moments  in  deep  thought,  and 
then  she  sought  the  retirement  of  her  own  room,  and 
with  a  strange  bewildered  burden  resting  upon  her  heart, 
and  a  conscious  feeling  that  an  impassable  gulf  lay  be- 
tween her  and  what  she  had  fondly  anticipated,  and 
throwing  herself  into  an  easy  chair,  her  pulses  beating 
with  double  force — and  the  life  blood  tinging  her  cheek 
and  brow — she  cried  in  impassioned  tones:  "  Why  must 
there  ever  be  the  misty  curtain  of  uncertainty  before  my 
eyes  as  I  try  to  look  out  into  the  future.  Must  I  live 
forever  in  the  Present?  1  can  look  back  upon  nothing 
but  storm  clouds.  The  sunshine  of  Oak  Grove  is  hidden 
so  far  back  behind  them,  that  even  its  brightest  rays 
cannot  pierce  the  gloom.  They  call  me  happy,  while  / 
sometimes  wonder  what  the  true  meaning  of  the  word 
can  be.  No,  /  am  miserable  in  the  broadest  sense  of 
the  word.  I  am  growing  bitter  towards  the  whole  world, 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


863 


and  sometimes  1  almost  doubt  the  goodness  of  God. 
Every  hope,  as  soon  as  it  is  raised — totters  and  falls — 
every  idol  is  broken  at  my  feet,  and  were  it  not  that 
pride  has  an  inveterate  hold  upon  my  heart,  I  could  not 
meet  the  scanning  eyes  that  seem  to  say:  ^How  could 
she  live  ?  Why  did  she  not  die?'  I  wonder  if  they 
ever  tried  to  die,  or  even  to  forget,  if  so,  they  know  full 
well  why  I  live.  But  this  will  not  do,"  she  said,  after  a 
few  moments'  reflection.  "  I  must  not  give  way  to  my 
feelings  in  this  manner.  There  may  be  greater  battles 
for  me  to  fight  yet,  before  I  gain  entire  victory  over  my 
sorely  tempted  heart,  than  any  I  have  yet  fought,  so  I 
will  again  take  up  the  hardest  of  all  crosses  for  me  to 
bear — waiting  patiently,  and  go  on  and  let  those  call  me 
happy  who  will."  Not  wishing  to  pain  her  friends,  she 
assumed  a  cheerfulness  in  their  presence,  which  she  sel- 
dom felt.  Her  life  had  been  so  entirely  difierent  from  the 
pictures  painted,  in  those  brighter  days  at  Oak  Grove, 
that  at  times  she  gave  way  to  despondency  at  the  con- 
trast. She  had  undefined  aspirations  and  ideas,  without 
the  opportunity,  or  perhaps,  the  will  power,  owing  to  the 
blight  of  early  years,  to  gather  up  these  ideas  and  weld 
them  into  an  indestructable  chain  of  resolutions,  hence 
her  continued  disappointment  at  seeing  her  castles  vanish 
in  the  air,  and  she,  like  thousands  of  others  whose  soul's 
noblest  aspirations  have  never  been  met,  often  wondered 
as  she  groped  her  way  through  the  uncongenial  darkness 
of  life,  if  God  really  had  in  reservation  for  her  a  brighter 
light  in  which  to  walk,  while  the  ages  were  rolling  their 
eternal  rounds.  "  If  so,"  she  would  say,  ''all  that  I  am 
passing  through  in  this  world  will  appear  as  naught  in 
that  glorious  light,"  and  with  such  thoughts  as  these  ia 


364  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

her  mind,  on  that  evening,  she  passed  out  upon  the  upper 
piazza.  It  was  a  beautiful  night,  full  of  soft  moonlight. 
The  distance  of  the  city  seemed  drowsy  with  the  hum  of 
humanity,  a  delicate  and  almost  imperceptible  mist  hung 
above  it,  and  from  far  down  the  streets  came  the  song  of 
"  Home,  Sweet  Home,"  while  from  the  other  distance 
came  the  faint  echoings  of  a  Strauss  waltz,  and  from 
away  on  the  hill  tops  the  nightingale  sent  up  its  clearest 
notes.  All  nature  seemed  sweetly  subdued,  and  called  forth 
from  that  sorrow  burdened  heart,  the  higher  and  nobler 
sentiments  which  had  been  crushed  and  mangled  by  the 
conflicts  of  life,  and  there,  in  the  moonlight  alone  she 
fought  a  great  battle,  and  with  a  feeling  that  she  had 
conquered,  she  went  to  join  Nina  for  the  evening's  visit 
with  the  invalids,  her  face  radiant  with  a  joy  not  born  of 
earth,  and  to  have  looked  upon  her  then,  one  could 
readily  have  forgotten  all  the  tears  of  sorrow,  pangs  of 
grief,  disappointed  hopes  and  wounded  affections  through 
which  she  had  passed,  and  fancied  her  the  bright  happy 
girl  on  her  way  to  the  sunny  South,  picturing  in  glow- 
ing language  the  beautiful  scenery  to  her  blind  com- 
panion. That  same  subdued  animation,  that  gentle 
dignity  and  stately  poise  of  form,  seemed  to  have 
returned,  transforming  her  into  the  very  soul  of  love- 
liness. 

During  her  stay  in  the  city  she  had  frequently  been 
met  in  her  walks,  to  and  fro  from  her  school  room,  by  a 
tall,  handsome  man,  whose  dark  eyes  had  rested  upon 
her  with  evident  interest,  and  beneath  their  gaze  she 
had  felt  the  warm  blood  mount  to  her  cheek.  She  fancied 
she  recognized  in  them  the  same  tender,  magnetic  love- 
light  which  had  awakened  the  first  intense  emotions  of 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


365 


her  heart,  in  the  old  church  hospital  at  Burksville; 
and  as  the  weeks  passed  by,  and  their  meetings  became 
more  frequent,  she  found  that  same  longing  in  her  heart 
to  be  near  him,  that  she  had  felt  drawing  her  towards 
tlie  wounded  soldier,  and  sometimes  she  wondered  if  he 
did  not  recognize  her,  and  yet  she  would  query  in  her 
own  mind:  "Why  does  he  not  make  himself  known 
and  seek  my  acquaintance?  but  I  will  wait  patiently. 
He  will  yet  seek  and  claim  that  which  has  been  his, 
through  all  these  years."  And  upon  this  delicious  hope 
her  heart  was  feasting,  and  the  world  was  growing 
brighter,  and  life  more  dear.  All  weariness  of  duty  had 
turned  to  pleasure,  and  that  very  morning  he  had  ven- 
tured to  raise  his  hat  more  perceptibly  when  meeting 
her,  and  his  eyes  had  spoken  volumes  of  silent  language; 
and  while  standing  there  by  the  window,  this  evening, 
trimming  an  arbor  vitse,  he  had  walked  by,  and  in  doing 
so  had  glanced  up  at  the  window,  and  as  their  eyes  met, 
his  face  crimsoned  with  confusion.  She  saw  him  cross  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  street,  and  as  unceremoniously, 
enter  the  neat  little  cottage  as  if  it  were  his  home. 
And  when  Mrs.  Ford  informed  her  that  he  had  been  in 
the  army,  she  felt  doubly  sure  that  he  was  the  same 
person  for  whom  she  had  written  the  letters  in  the 
hospital;  and  as  Mrs.  Ford  left  the  room,  to  meet  her 
guests,  she  stood  transfixed  for  a  moment  with  her  new 
born  hopes  blighted,  and  she  was  left,  once  more,  in  the 
shadow  of  darkness.  During  all  the  years  intervening 
between  her  visits  to  Burksville,  and  this  night,  her 
guiding  star  had  pointed  out  to  the  "  sometime,  some- 
where," that  she  should  drink  deeper  from  that  fountain 
of  bliss.    Now  the  mystery  was  solved,  why  he  had 


366  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

not  sought  her  out  when  the  war  was  over.  Perhaps  he 
was  even  then  bound  by  the  law  to  another,  and  with 
this  last  sustaining  pillar  fallen  to  the  ground,  she 
sought  her  own  room,  and  gave  vent  to  her  over  wrought 
feelings,  which  tenninated  with  a  resolve  to  bury  the 
dead  Past,  and  live  henceforth  above  the  allurements  of 
the  world,  by  devoting  the  remainder  of  life  in  minis 
istering  to  the  suffering  ones  of  earth,  and  then  there 
came  into  her  heart  a  sweet  peace,  such  as  she  had  never 
known,  and  she  went  into  tlio  presence  of  the  patient 
invalids,  with  a  heart  as  pure  as  that  of  an  infant,  and 
no  wonder  they  were  charmed  with  her  as  they  seldom 
were  with  strangers,  Mrs.  Ford  calling  her  sister,  as  was 
her  habit,  they  not  deeming  it  necessary  that  the  world 
at  large  should  be  made  acquainted  with  her  entire 
history. 

That  night,  after  Marna  retired,  she  thought  of 
this  new  peace  that  had  come  to  her  heart,  of  her 
new  friend,  and  tried  in  vain  to  recall  the  sad  brown 
eyes,  that  had  sometime,  either  in  her  dreams,  or  in 
the  other  days,  looked  into  her  own  with  that  same 
tenderness,  but  it  was  so  far  back  in  the  dim  vista  of 
the  past  that  it  was  impossible  for  memory  to  reach  it. 
She  had  been  strangely  attracted  toward  Mrs.  JBradly, 
and  the  feeling  of  perfect  rest  she  felt  in  her  presence, 
caused  her  to  make  frequent  visits  to  the  cottage;  and 
yet  she  often  cliided  herself  for  having  Entertained  a 
strange,  wild  hopes  of  what  might  be,  but  which  she 
now  believed  were  crucified;  and  yet  she  dreaded  lest, 
upon  meeting  the  husband  of  her  friend,  she  should 
find  that  they  were  only  sleeping,  as  they  had  done  for 
years,  and  might  be  aroused  in  all  their  intensity  upon 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


367 


a  personal  acquaintance.  She  had  not  seen  him  since 
she  saw  him  enter  the  cottage  that  evening,  her  school 
room  being  closed  for  the  summer  she  seldom  walked 
out  in  that  direction.  But  from  time  to  time,  of  late, 
she  had  observed  a  robust,  elderly  gentleman  enter  in 
the  same  unceremonious  manner,  and  had  thought  him 
the  family  physician.  During  one  of  her  visits  to  the 
cottage,  which  were  becoming  quite  frequent,  as  she  had 
command  of  her  entire  timef  Mrs.  Bradly  seemed  to 
insist  upon  her  sitting  with  her  part  of  each  day,  as  the 
days  were  long  and  full  of  lonely  hours.  She  was  pre- 
sented to  a  Mrs.  Clare,  an  elderly  lady,  whose  gaiety 
and  richness  of  dress,  and  sprightliness  of  manner 
gave  evidence  that  she  was  still  a  woman  of  society, 
with  the  remnants  of  the  haughtiness  of  her  younger 
days  yet  visible.  Upon  being  presented  to  Marna,  she 
extended  the  finger  tips  of  her  daintily  gloved  hand, 
but  suddenly  grasping  the  hand  which  Marna  gave  her, 
and  holding  it  firmly  within  her  own,  she  bent  her  large, 
dark  blue  eyes  upon  her  with  such  intense  earnestness, 
as  to  cause  the  red  blood  to  mount  to  Mama's  cheek, 
seeing  which,  she  said: 

Please  excuse  me,  Miss  Lowe,"  and  then  turning  to 
Mrs.  Bradly  she  continued.  "  Did  you  ever  see  our 
daughter  Bertha  ?  O,  no,  I  might  have  known  you 
never  did,  as  she  died  in  Sacramento  before  we  came 
here,  but  she  never  looked  more  like  herself  than  does 
this  young  lady."  And  then  turning  to  Marna  she 
besieged  her  with  a  torreut  of  questions,  as  to  her  native 
place,  and  who  her  parents  wei'e,  and  what  was  her  age, 
all  of  which  Marna  answered  with  becoming  dignity, 
and  with  a  troubled,  perplexed  look  upon  her  face  Mrs. 


368  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Clare  changed  the  subject.  But  when,  after  an  hour  or 
more,  she  rose  to  go,  she  fixed  her  gaze  upon  Marna 
again,  however,  it  was  now  divested  in  a  degree  of  that 
wild,  amazed  expression,  and  she  said  almost  tenderly, 
"I  hope,  Miss  Lowe,  that  we  shall  meet  again,  forreally 
it  seems  as  if  the  grave  had  given  me  back  my  own 
dear  child.  A  friend  of  ours  who  knew  Bertha,  said  he 
had  met  a  teacher  of  music  in  the  city  who  looked  so 
like  her  that  he  felt  it  really  must  be  a  relation." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Marna,  "  it  was  myself,  as  I  have 
had  a  class  in  music  here  for  some  months." 

""Well  then,"  said  Mrs.  Clare,  "  it  must  be,  for  it  does 
not  seem  possible  that  two  persons  could  so  closely 
resemble  one  who  died  years  ago,"  and  then  she  urged 
that  she  should  accompany  Mrs.  Bradly  to  spend  a  day 
with  her.  "  I  do  so  want  my  husband  to  see  you,"  she 
continued.  "  Poor  man,  he  has  not  yet  gotten  over  our 
Bertha's  death."  Mrs.  Bradly  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
giving  detailed  accounts  of  the  history  of  her  friends  and 
yet  as  Mrs.  Clare  left  them,  she  felt  it  due  to  Marna  that 
she  make  some  explanation  by  way  of  excusing  Mrs. 
Clare's  nervous,  impulsive  manner. 

'^Poor  woman,"  she  said,  '^her  life  is  far  from  being 
an  enviable  one,  notwithstanding  she  is  the  most  wealthy 
lady  in  the  city,  and  all  that  money  can  purchase  is  at 
her  command,  and  yet,  while  she  dwells  in  the  heart  of 
luxury,  she  is  not  happy.  Years  ago,  before  I  knew  her, 
they  lived  at  ease  in  Sacramento,  with  two  beautiful 
children,  who  grew  to  manhood  and  womanhood,  gentle, 
kind  and  loving.  The  son  was  sent  to  Harvard  to  finish 
liis  education,  preparatory  to  a  profession,  and  while 
there  formed  the  acquaintance  of  a  young  girl,  so  Mrs. 


A   STOKV    OF    Ki^AL  LIFE. 


3(39 


Clare  says,  far  beluw  him  in  point  of  wealth  and  intelli- 
gence, who,  with  her  scheming  parents,  inveigled  him 
into  a  marriage,  several  months  before  lie  was  to  have 
graduated,  and  when  he  brought  her  home  they  refused 
them  admission  to  their  house.  His  pleadings  were  not 
liscened  to  and  he  was  obliged  to  seek  a  home  elsewhere. 
So  he  came  to  San  Francisco  and  rented  this  cottage, 
where,  by  getting  odd  jobs  at  writing  or  a  clerkship  on 
a  small  salary,  they  barely  subsisted  for  a  year  or  two, 
when  the  increasing  demands  consequent  upon  the  addi- 
tion to  their  family  of  two  lov^ely  twin  babes,  proved  too 
great  for  his  limited  income,  and  with  health  and  spirits 
broken  and  on  the  verge  of  despair,  he  made  one  more 
eftbrt  to  reach  the  heart  of  his  parents,  but  was  again 
repulsed,  his  mother  bidding  him  never  to  darken  their 
doors  again,  until  he  had  sent  that  vile  woman  back  to 
her  parents.  That  night  his  wiie  was  awakened  by  the 
report  of  a  pistol,  and  the  disheartened  man's  life  was 
•  ended,  in  this  very  room.  Mrs.  Clare  never  comes  here 
but  she  grows  very  nervous." 

And  what  became  of  the  wife  and  children  ?"  said 
Marna,  deeply  interested  in  the  strange  narrative. 

''Well,"  continued  Mrs.  Bradly,  '' the  neighbors  cared 
for  her  until  she  could  earn  a  comfortable  support  with 
her  needle.  But  after  the  death  of  one  of  her  babies  her 
health  began  to  fail  so  rapidly  that  the  indications  were 
that  she  could  not  live  long,  and  worked  so  continually 
night  and  day.  So  a  purse  was  raised  and  she  went  to 
her  friends  in  the  East." 

''And  did  his  family  never  come  to  her  relief?" 
asked  Marna,  showing  a  spirit  of  indignation. 

"  Yes,  his  father  gave  her  a  few  dollars  the  day  he 

24 


370  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

came  to  take  the  body  of  his  son  home  for  burial.  It 

was  thought  he  would  not  have  been  so  heartless  had  not 
his  wife  dictated  his  course.  They  say  she  was  very 
arbitrary  in  her  younger  days.  But  the  son's  suicide 
and  the  daughter's  sudden  death  a  few  years  later,  com- 
pletely changed  them  both,  and  now,  in  a  thousand  lives, 
as  they  say  themselves,  they  could  not  atone  for  the 
wrong  done  that  son  and  his  innocent  wife.  And  all 
attempts  to  find  her  have  proved  unavailing,  and  they 
think  the  report  true  that  came  to  them,  that  a  woman 
with  a  child  in  lier  arms  had  thrown  herself  overboard 
about  the  time  that  she  was  en  route  for  New  York, 
but — "  and  here  she  hesitated  for  a  moment  as  if  consid- 
ering the  propriety  uf  what  she  was  about  to  add,  but 
her  implicit  confidence  in  Marna  prevailed,  "nothing 
could  induce  mother  to  meet  that  woman,  as  she  believes 
that  her  son's  wife  was  lier  own  younger  sister.  The 
name  is  the  same,  and  she  married  while  her  husband 
was  at  Harvard.  She  was  visiting  a  friend,  and  when 
she  came  home  she  was  engaged,  and  as  she  was  quite 
young  and  he  a  stranger,  she  met  with  the  opposition  of 
her  parents,  and  one  morning  they  found  she  was  gone, 
and  no  trace  of  her  could  be  had,  and  tliey  also  learned 
that  about  that  same  time  the  young  man  had  left  col- 
lege.   And  that  was  the  last  for  years." 

"And  did  they  never  hear  of  her  again?"  asked 
Marna,  growing  more  deeply  interested. 

"  Yes,  but  not  until  she  had  returned  to  New  York 
City,  where  she  died  in  an  old  tenement  house,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradly  with  a  sigh,  "and  by  some  strange  coinci- 
dence I  was  led  to  the  house  on  the  day  of  the  funeral, 
and  yet  I  had  not  then  the  most  remote  idea  who  she 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


371 


was."  And  then  she  related,  while  the  tears  coursed 
down  her  cheeks,  her  strange  infatuation  for  the  child, 
of  her  adopting  it,  and  of  its  being  stolen.  And  in  glow- 
ing words  she  told  pf  the  long  continued  search,  and 
how,  at  last,  when  she  returned  home  from  her  visit  in 
the  city,  her  mother  discovered  in  the  child's  trunk, 
with  which  she  could  not  be  induced  to  part,  a  dress, 
which  she,  herself,  had  made  for  her  sister,  and  she  feels 
so  certain  that  this  woman  is  the  mother  of  this  young 
man  that  she  positively  refuses  to  meet  her. " 

"  And  do  you  not  think  from  the  circumstances  that 
she  is?"  said  Mania. 

Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bradly,  in  rather  a  sad  tone.  "  I 
have  no  doubt  of  it,  and  yet  I  liad  learned  to  love  and 
pity  her  before  the  thought  came  to  me.  I  came  here  a 
stranger  and  we  moved  into  a  house  belonging  to  them, 
and  quite  near  the  one  in  which  they  lived,  and  during 
our  three  years'  stay  there  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clare 
were  very  kind  to  us.  After  Mr.  Bradly's  father  died 
Mr.  Clare  seemed  to  wish  to  fill  his  place,  and  they  have 
done  for  us  very  much  as  parents  would  do  by  their 
children,  and  I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  wish  to 
cherish  a  revengeful  spirit.  But  I  would  not  have  you 
think  for  a  moment  that  revenge  is  the  spirit  which 
actuates  mother.  She  feels  grieved  and  thinks  it  best 
for  her  happiness  not  to  come  in  contact  with  the  woman^ 
But  she  never  dictates  my  course,  so  we  come  and  go  as 
though  there  was  no  knowledge  of  the  past  in  our 
possession." 

Had  Marna  forgotten  the  dying  confession  of  the  old 
soldier  at  Burksville.  It  had  passed  from  her  mind  but 
when  Mrs.  Bradly  spoke  of  the  stolen  Nellie,  she  recalled 


372  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

it,  and  for  some  moments  she  deliberated  as  to  the 
expediency  of  relating  it  to  Mrs.  Bradly,  but  as  it  was 
so  long  since,  and  told  so  incoherently,  and  as  he  had 
been  unable  to  find  the  family,  she  thought  best  not  to 
speak  of  it.  So  the  subject  was  dropped.  But  for  days, 
yea,  weeks,  it  was  the  all  absorbing  theme  upon  which 
her  mind  dwelt.  She  would  strive  with  almost  frantic 
efforts  to  pierce  the  veil  of  mystery  hanging  about  her 
own  early  childhood.  She  remembered  that  Mrs. 
Morris,  that  dissolute,  hardened  creature,  had  said  she 
was  not  her  child,  and  that  a  rough  old  man  had  brought 
her  there  and  said  that  the  child's  mother  was  dead,  "and 
what  if  after  all,"  she  thought,  ''Mrs.  Morris  spoke  the 
truth,  and  I  am  not  her  child,  but  the  one  stolen  from 
this  woman."  Such  thoughts  as  these  were  preying  so 
continually  upon  her  mind  that  she  became  saddened  and 
changed.  Her  cheeks  grew  pallid,  her  eyes  sunken,  and 
there  was  a  languor  stealing  over  her  life  which  caused 
great  anxiety  on  the  part  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ford,  as  also 
Mrs.  Bradly,  and  yet  she  kept  her  own  counsel,  and 
never  in  the  most  remote  manner  referred  to  the  subject 
which  was  undermining  her  health  and  destrojdng  her 
peace.  She  knew  to  speak  of  it  to  Mrs.  Ford  would  be 
useless,  as  all  she  knew  of  her  history  was  what  she  her- 
self had  told  her,  and  her  pride  forbade  her  making  it 
the  subject  of  remark,  even  within  the  charmed  circle 
at  the  cottage,  which  to  her  was  the  very  center  of 
purity  and  love,  and  within  which  her  weary  soul  found 
sweet  rest.  So  to  all,  save  the  eye  of  the  Omniscient 
One,  her  heart  was  a  sealed  book 


If 


CHAPTEK  XXIX. 

MINERAL  PARK. 

As  time  wore  on  and  there  was  no  perceptible  change 
in  Marna's  health  and  spirits  for  the  better,  her  physi- 
cian ordered  a  change  of  scenery,  thinking  that  rest 
would  do  more  for  her  than  drugs.  So  Mr.  Ford  sug- 
gested that  they  accompany  him  to  Arizona,  as  his 
business  there  was  going  to  detain  him  an  indefinite 
lengtli  of  time. 

"  Suppose,"  said  he,  ^'yon  close  the  house  for  a  time, 
and  live  a  strolling  gypsey  kind  of  life  for  a  while 
having  your  headquarters  at  Mineral  Park,  as  that  is 
where  I  shall  be  the  greater  part  of  the  time.  We  will 
fit  up  an  adobe  house  of  some  dried  birch  such  as  tliey 
use  there,  and  take  Charley  with  us,  as  one  servant 
will  be  sufiicient,  will  it  not?  It  will  be  a  change  for 
you,  at  least,  and  it  will  afford  you  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  much  of  the  wild  life  of  the  miners  and  the  red 
men,  as  well  as  to  cultivate  an  acquaintance  with  a  great 
many  other  interesting  inhabitants  of  that  territory,  the 
tarantula,  centipede  and  the  coyote,  together  with 
many  other  friendly  neighbors  of  that  class,  who  will 
not  be  in  the  least  backward  about  making  your 
acquaintance." 

The  ladies  laughed  and  shuddered  at  the  thought  of 

the  adventure,  and  by  the  time  set  for  Mr.  Ford's  depart- 

373 


374  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

ure  they  were  in  readiness,  having  packed  and  sent 
several  boxes  with  articles  necessary  to  their  comfort 
during  their  sojourn.  The  two  days  and  nights'  trip  by 
rail  to  Uraa  was,  in  a  measure,  a  pleasant  one.  Passing 
through  Los  Angelos,  with  its  beautiful  vineyards,  its 
orange  and  fig  groves  called  vividly  to  Marna's  mind 
the  trip  through  similar  scenes  in  the  days  long  past. 
After  this,  the  muddy  waters  of  the  Colorado  river  for  a 
week  of  days  and  nights,  resounded  with  the  song  and 
laughter  of  our  little  company,  who  seemed  bent  on 
enjoying  all  there  was  of  pleasure  in  the  trip,  anchoring 
at  sunset  each  day  and  tying  up  to  a  shrub  or  tree  on  the 
banks,  they  would  stroll  out  and  breathe  the  pure  air  of 
that  salubrious  clime,  which  was  freighted  with  the 
fragrance  of  rare  and  beautiful  flowers,  Mrs.  Ford  sketch- 
ing many  beautiful  scenes,  for  the  future  use  of  her 
artistic  genius,  while  Marna,  by  the  aid  of  the  muses 
wove  the  same  into  beautiful  little  poems,  some  of  which 
since  then,  have  gone  into  song. 

Now,"  said  Marna,  with  a  merry  little  laugh,  as  at 
Kardyville  their  journey  by  water  having  ended,  and 
they  were  taking  their  seats  in  a  little  spring  wagon  to 
which  was  attached  two  mules  but  little  larger  than 
Newfoundland  dogs,  ^'the  real  romance  of  our  journey 
begins,"  and  taking  in  the  ridiculousness  of  the  situation, 
they  all  laughed  heartily.  The  Spanish  driver,  however, 
did  not  appreciate  their  merry  making,  and  grew  some- 
what indignant,  and  made  threats  of  leaving  them  to 
walk,  or  await  some  other  opportunity  of  getting  over 
the  dismal  road  to  Mineral  Park,  mingled  with  oaths  in 
very  poor  English,  which  served  to  quiet  their  hilarity 
for  a  time.    Charley,  the  China  boy,  persisted  for  a 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


375 


time  in  saying,  "  Me  no  ri'de,  me  wa'ke  to  lit'te  lior'se, 
big,  ge,  loa,  de."  But  the  Spanish  driver  commanded 
him  to  stop  liis  clack,  and  get  in,  and  soon  they  were 
going  at  wliat  was,  as  Marna  whispered  to  Mrs.  Ford, 
"a  regular  dog  trot  speed,"  over  the  barren  country,  and 
had  they  not  cast  all  fear  of  offending  their  driver,  aside, 
and  summoned  all  the  vivacity  of  their  natures  to  the 
rescue,  its  ''real  romance,"  would  have  died  a  most  ter- 
rible death.  Arriving  at  Union  Pass  where  they  stopped 
to  lunch,  there  was  a  break  in  the  monotony.  A  small 
but  higlily  excited  crowd  was  gathered  about,  list- 
ening to  the  startling  story  of  a  man  from  San  Bar- 
nardino,  who  had  been  to  Mineral  Park  with  a  load  of 
groceries,  wliich  he  disposed  of  at  a  neat  profit,  to  Kat- 
ling  Ned,the.principal  grocery-man  in  that  place,  and  pro- 
ceeded on  his  way  home  with  his  Indian  companion,  and 
when  within  a  few  miles  of  that  place,  two  masked  men 
came  out  from  the  bushes,  and  after  disarming  the  man 
and  tying  the  Indian,  one  of  the  men  placed  his  gun 
at  the  man's  head,  while  the  other  proceeded  to  rob 
him  of  his  last  dollar;  and  then,  fleeing  with  their 
booty,  left  the  man  to  untie  the  terrified  Indian.  Two 
young  men,  strangers  to  the  company,  and  who  appeared 
the  most  excited,  and  were  loudest  in  their  condemna- 
tion of  the  act,  were  suspected  as  being  the  perpetrators 
of  the  dastardly  deed.  But  as  there  was  not  8ufl[icient 
proof  to  guarantee  an  arrest,  and,  perhaps,  a  lack  of 
courage  on  the  part  of  the  others  to  investigate  further,i 
the  matter  w^as  dropped.  The  remainder  of  the  journeip 
was  marked  by  no  greater  event,  than  an  occasional 
rustling  of  the  bushes,  and  snapping  of  twigs,  caused  by 
the  skulking  of  the  Indians,  belonging  to  the  various 


376  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

tribes  inhabiting  that  immediate  vicinity,  but  as  they 
were  not  of  the  hostile  tribe  of  Apaches,  there  was  no 
great  fear  upon  the  part  of  our  company,  more  than  of 
a  slight  twinging  of  the  nerves  of  the  two  ladies,  aug- 
mented in  a  degree  by  the  recent  robbery  having  been 
committed  on  that  same  road.  Mr.  Ford,  however,  in 
anticipation  of  some  disquietude  on  their  part,  became 
more  than  usually  talkative,  relating  pleasant  reminis- 
ences  of  a  former  trip  through  that  region ;  and  when 
they  arrived  at  the  end  of  their  journey  they  could 
scarcely  realize  that  they  had  come  so  great  a  distance. 

Mineral  Park,  at  that  time,  consisted  of  about  a  dozen 
adobes  and  shanties,  one  grocery,  a  doctor's  office,  and 
two  or  three  saloons.  Here,  however,  it  being  the 
county  seat  of  Mahoe  county,  was  quite  a  pretentious 
building,  which  was  used  as  court  house,  opera,  lecture, 
and  dancing  hall.  The  lawyers  from  Phoenix,  and  other 
places  surrounding,  bringing  their  wives  and  daughters 
here  to  rusticate  during  the  terms  of  court,  thus  making 
it  quite  cheerful  during  each  season,  although  at  other 
times  it  was  considered,  by  our  adventurers,  rather 
dreary.  The  village  was  situated  in  a  basin,  about  a 
mile  in  length,  and  less  than  that  in  width,  and  sur-  * 
rounded  by  high  mountains,  which  were  covered  by 
scraggy  evergreens,  and  with  but  one  way  of  egress,  and 
that  by  a  narrow  road,  winding  around  and  up,  the  steep 
mountain  sides.  It  chanced  that  after  a  few  months  of 
our  little  company's  stay,  that  the  fall  term  of  court 
held  its  session,  which  was  quite  a-  pleasant  relief,  from 
the  monotony,  for  Mrs.  Ford  and  Marna,  as  they  had  but 
few  opportunities  for  leaving  the  place,  owing  to  Mr. 
Ford's  close  confinement  to  business,  having  made  but 


Judge  Austi  n.  \\  as  m  i  i        lone  in  a  kecess  and  unperceived 

BY  THEM,  IIEAKD  EVEUY  WORD  OF  THE  CONVERSATION. 

See  page  384. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


377 


brief  visits  to  Prescott  and  Tuscan.  But  the  time  dur- 
ing the  last  four  weeks  had  not  hung  so  heavily  on 
Marna's  hands  as  the  previous  ones,  for  in  lier  walks 
about  the  village,  while  Nina  was  busy  in  touching  up 
her  sketches,  she  learned,  by  seeing  the  doctor  fre- 
quently enter  a  house,  that  a  little  child  was  very  ill 
there,  and  upon  going  in  she  learned  tliatno  one  having 
come  to  their  relief,  the  father  and  mother  having  cared 
for  the  babe  for  many  days  and  nights,  were  very  weary, 
and  when  she  tendered  her  services  they  were  accepted 
with  tears  of  gratitude,  and  for  days  and  nights  follow- 
ing this  she  ministered  to  the  little  sufferer.  And 
when,  at  last,  death  relieved  the  little  one,  and  the 
spirit  began  that  endless  voyage  through  the  realms  of 
bliss,  she  closed  the  sightless  eyes,  folded  the  thin, 
white  hands,  and  laid  the  little  cold  form  in  a  neat,  white 
casket,  made  by  her  own  hands,  from  the  boards  of  one 
of  their  packing  boxes,  covering  it  with  white  muslin. 
And  as  the  mother  looked  with  tearful  eyes  upon  her 
darling's  face,  as  it  nestled  among  the  dainty  ruchings, 
she  said: 

"  How  much  more  this  is  like  the  Christian  burials 
out  in  the  civilized  w^orld,  than  what  we  ever  see  here. 
Sometimes  there  can  not  be  rough  boards  enough  found 
to  serve  as  a  coffin,  and  persons  are  compelled  to  lay 
their  dear  dead  ones  in  the  damp  earth,  cofSnless;  and 
words  can  never  express  to  you,  my  gratitude  for  your 
kindness  in  providing  this  casket." 

The  name.  Mineral  Pai'k,  had  suggested  to  Marna's 
vivid  imagination  a  place  of  quiet  rest  and  beauty.  The 
quiet  rest  she  had  realized,  to  the  extent  of  weariness, 
and  the  saying  of  Charlie  had  become  a  trite  one,  by 


378  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

its  frequent  repetition.  "  Me  no  li-ke,  Min-ne,  Pa-rke," 
and  she  was  glad  of  almost  anything  for  a  change,  so 
when  the  long  looked  for  event  was  at  hand,  she  hailed 
it  with  joy.  To  see  a  score  or  more  fashionably  dressed 
ladies,  daily  promenading  the  narrow,  dusty  streets,  and 
hearing  the  hum  of  voices  on  all  sides,  gave  her  new 
life,  and  even  Charlie  moved  about  his  work  with 
greater  alacrity,  as  he  said: 

"  Now  me  li-ke  Min-ne  Par-ke,  if  snake  all  kill-le.'' 

This  session  of  court  was  the  inaugural  of  the  newly 
elected  Judge,  Charles  Austin,  of  San  Francisco.  A 
dtoce  and  banquet  was  to  be  given  on  the  occasion,  and 
for  two  days  delicate  white  hands,  that  were  unused  to 
toil,  were  busy  weaving  the  scraggy  pines  into  wreaths, 
mottoes,  and  emblems,  while  the  ^'  Dais "  was  orna- 
mented  with  an  alcove  or  bower,  over  which  was  sus- 
pended a  spread  eagle,  bearing  in  its  beak,  the  word 
"  Welcome,"'  and  within  which  was  placed  the  official 
chair,  neatly  cushioned. 

"  I  think,"  said  Marna,  when  the  last  finishing  touches 
were  complete,  "  that  this  ought  to  gratify  the  vanity  of 
any  man,  that  is,  if  such  a  thing  is  possible." 

To  which  they  all  joined  in  a  merry  laugh,  and  fol- 
lowed the  remark,  with  sallies  of  wit  and  humor,  until 
scissors,  tacks,  and  twine,  were  all  gathered  up,  and  then 
they  departed,  in  order  that  the  janitor  have  time  to  do 
his  part  of  the  work  before  the  hour  for  the  ceremony 
should  arrive. 

A  more  brilliant  little  company  was  never  assembled 
in  that  room  than  on  this  evening;  and  after  short, 
pithy  speeches  of  welcome  from  some  of  the  older  prac- 
titioners, and  a  few  well  chosen  words  of  response  from 


A  STORY  OF  KEAr.  LIFE. 


379 


Judge  Austin,  the  festivities  began;  the  Judge  leading 
off  in  forming  the  first  set,  with  Miss  Lina  Sanford,  of 
Phoenix,  as  his  partner,  she  being  ahnost  the  only  lady 
present  with  whom  he  was  acquainted,  her  father  being 
numbered  among  his  most  intimate  acquaintances,  both 
having  hailed  from  New  York  City.  Mrs.  Ford  and 
Marna  were  detained,  and  consequently  did  not  hear  the 
speeches,  and  as  they  entered  while  the  dancing  was  in 
progress,  they  quietly  took  seats  near  the  entrance,  and 
as  the  set  dispersed,  and  the  Judge  led  Miss  Sanford  to 
a  seat,  he  met  the  eyes  of  Marna  who  was  proximately 
seated,  and  involuntarily  they  both  started.  He  being 
certain  that  in  her  he  recognized  the  music  teacher  of 
San  Francisco,  who  so  closely  resembled  one  w^hom  he 
had  met  at  various  times  and  places,  and  for  whom  he 
cherished  a  most  tender  and  undefined  regard.  She, 
feeling  just  as  certain,  that  in  him  she  saw  the  husband 
of  her  friend,  Mrs.  Bradly,  and  she  dare  not  trust  her 
own  heart  enough  to  speak  of  him  to  Mrs.  Ford.  Mr. 
Bradly,  coming  up  just  at  that  moment,  said  to  his  wife, 
in  Marna's  presence: 

The  timid  bachelor  is  getting  to  be  quite  a  brave 
gallant  since  he  came  to  Arizona;  so  much  so  that  he 
led  oft*  in  the  first  dance.  I  think  they  may  well  be  proud 
of  him  as  a  judge;  I  do  not  know  a  man  in  the  whole 
Territory  that  will  fill  the  chair  with  more  dignity  than 
he." 

"  Which  is  he?"  said  Marna,  "  I  am  just  dying  to  get 
a  glimpse  of  a  bachelor.  I  have  looked  at  your  married 
men  so  much  that  it  will  be  quite  a  treat  to  see  a  gallant 
bachelor,  and  who  knows,  if  I  like  his  appearance,  but  I 
may  try  to  get  up  a  little  'Affaire  d'amour,'  at  least,  I 


380  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

shall  show  all  the  'savoir  vivre^  possible."  She  think- 
ing, by  this  piece  of  witticism,  to  divert  both  har  own 
mind  and  the  attention  of  friends,  from  her  confusion, 
caused  by  the  unexpected  meeting  with  tlie  man  who 
alone  had  ever  had  the  power  of  stirring  lier  heart  to 
its  very  depths. 

''I  will  point  him  out  to  you,  said  Mr.  Ford,  but  do 
not  look  that  way  just  yet,  for  his  eyes  are  either  upon 
us,  or  some  one  near  by;  he  is  sitting  alone  directly 
under  the  motto,  '  Be  Brave,  Be  True'.  A  fitting  motto 
for  the  times  in  this  region  when  a  man's  life  is  in 
danger,  if  he  has  an  honest  conviction  of  right  and  dare 
express  it,"  rejoined  Marna,  without  looking  in  the 
direction  indicated.  A  few  moments  later,  however, 
losing  control  of  her  wandering  orbs,  she  cast  a  hasty 
glance  at  the  motto,  and  from  that  down,  meeting  the 
steady,  burning  gaze  of  those  same  eyes  which  she  had 
encountered  a  few  moments  before.  Again  the  crimson 
hue  overspread  her  face,  and  turning  to  Mr.  Ford,  she 
said: 

There,  I  have  always  heard  that  delays  were  danger- 
ous, and  now  I  realize  it,  by  not  looking  sooner  I  have 
missed  seeing  his  Highness,  for  he  has  wandered  away, 
and  Mr.  Bradly  has  taken  his  place.  But  as  you  said  to 
me,  so  I  say,  '  Do  not  look  just  yet.'  "  But  the  warning 
came  too  late,  and  before  Marna  had  concluded  the  sen- 
tence, Mr.  Ford  replied: 

"  That  is  the  J udge  sitting  there." 

Well,"  said  Marna,  smothering  down  a  sigh,  I 
never  saw  two  more  alike  than  he  and  Mr.  Bradly — our 
neiglibor  across  the  way  in  San  Francisco." 

^^Yes;"  rejoined  Mr.  Ford,  with  mock  gravity,  "  about 


A  8T0RY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


381 


as  much  alike  as  the  mules  that  brought  us  from  Hardy- 
ville  are  like  two  elephants.  Mr.  Bradly  is  quite  a 
robust  man,  and  much  older  than  Judge  Austin.  You, 
undoubtedly,  have  mistaken  him  for  Mr.  Bradly,  as  he 
spent  some  weeks  in  San  Francisco  last  spring,  and  dur- 
ing his  stay  was  a  guest  at  the  cottage;  Mr.  Bradly  and 
he  having  once  been  partners  in  law,  and  I  think  that 
up  to  the  time  of  his  election,  their  interest  was  con- 
tinued in  doing  business  for  the  mining  company,  as 
Mr.  Bradly  spends  the  greater  part  of  his  time  at 
Phoenix." 

'^I  knew  that  Mr.  Bradly  was  absent  from  home  a 
great  deal,  as  I  never  have  met  him,"  said  Marna,  with 
indifference,  and  she  turned  away  to  avoid  further  con- 
versation on  the  subject. 

Just  at  this  moment,  Mr.  Ford,  seeing  a  new  set  about 
to  be  formed,  bowled  gracefully  to  Marna,  and  led  his 
petite  w^ite  on  to  the  floor.  As  Marna  was  seeking  a 
quiet  place  in  which  to  calm  her  agitation,  she  chanced 
to  over-hear  one  gentleman  say  to  another: 

I  w^ill  go  and  give  Kate  her  medicine,  and  if  she  is 
no  worse,  I  will  be  back  in  time  for  the  next  set." 

Having  met  the  young  man  frequently  at  Mr.  Ford's, 
she  ventured  to  ask  who  was  ill. 

Mrs.  Horton;  she  is  very  ill;  can  not  live;"  said 
the  young  man. 

"Who  cares  for  her?  Has  she  no  nurse?"  queried 
Marna. 

"  Nurse?"  said  the  young  man,  "  there  is  not  such  a 
person  to  be  had  w^ithin  a  hundred  miles  from  here." 

Touched  by  the  loneliness  of  the  sick  woman,  with  no 
one  of  her  own  sex  to  minister  to  her,  Marna  said  in  her 
impulsive  way: 


382  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  I  will  go  and  stay  with  her." 

At  which  the  young  man  said  in  surprise: 

"  What,  you,  Miss  Lowe?  you  enter  that  house?  Why 
there  is  not  a  woman  in  town  would  go  there,  if  she 
were  to  die  alone.  She  is  the  woman  that  cooks  for  us 
boys,  and  has  that  saloon  across  the  way,  and  the  people, 
especially  the  women,  think  she  is  too  low  for  them  to 
notice,  and  so  she  is  an  outcast." 

"It  makes  no  difference,"  responded  Marna,  "who, 
or  what  she  is.  If  she  is  suffering  for  the  want  of  care, 
and  even  though  she  is  an  outcast  from  society,  she  is  a 
sister  woman,  and  to-morrow  morning,  or,  if  need  be, 
to  night,  I  will  go  to  her.  It  is  a  shame  that  we  are 
here  amid  all  this  gaiety,  while  one  of  our  sex  is  suffer- 
ing and,  perhaps,  dying  alone,  within  the  sound  of  the 
music  to  which  our  feet  are  keeping  time." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Lowe,  I  will  let  you  know  when  I 
return  how  she  is  doing." 

And  with  this,  he  hastened  away.  J ust  then  Lina 
Sanford,  with  her  friend.  Miss  Van  Dyke,  of  Tuscan, 
and  who  had  been  standing  near  enough  to  hear  part  of 
the  conversation  between  Marna  and  tlie  young  man, 
came  up  to  her,  and  addressing  Marna,  Miss  Van  Dyke 
said : 

"  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  inform  you  that  the  lady  to 
whom  that  little,  lisping  Jew  refers,  is  not  a  person  for 
you  to  visit.  She  is  one  of  the  vilest  creatures  on  earth, 
I  know  her  well.  She  was  once  a  neighbor  of  ours,  and 
was  then  considered  as  respectable  as  anyone.  She  had 
what  was  then  supposed  to  be,  a  miserable  husband. 
But  since  they  came  down  here  he  has  left  her,  and  is 
g  now  paying  his  addresses  to  one  of  our  first  young 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE 


383 


ladies,  while  she  has  shown  her  true  colors,  and  people 
now  believe  it  was  she  that  caused  him  to  do  many 
things  for  which  he  was  condemned." 

While  she  was  talking,  the  eyes  of  Lina  Sanford  were 
flashing  with  indignation,  and  when  the  tirade  was 
ended,  she  said  with  great  earnestness: 

"  Delia  VanDyke^  I  want  to  say  to  you  that  there  are 
two  sides  to  that  story.  My  father  has  known  the  Hor- 
tons  for  years;  knew  them  both  before  they  knew  each 
other;  and  he  pays  that  Mrs.  Horton  was  a  lovely  girl, 
brought  up  in  the  midst  of  luxury  and  refinement,  while 
Mr.  Horton  Was  always  coarse,  worthless  and  unprin- 
cipled;  and  her  parents  opposing  her  marriage  with  him 
they  elope  1,  and  since  then  he  has  dragged  her  through 
almost  every  state  in  the  Union.  On  coming  here,  he  grew 
too  shiflless  to  try  to  earn  enough  to  support  the  family, 
and  shc',  with  miserable  broken  health,  was  obliged  to 
take  in  washing  to  keep  her  children  from  starving;  and 
when  her  husband  abandoned  her,  here  in  a  strange 
place,  and  these  young  men  offered  her  a  good  salary  for 
doing  their  cooking,  and  if,  in  her  desperation,  she  has 
gone  down,  one  step  after  another,  until  she  has  become 
the  vile  wretch  that  you  call  her,  it  has  been  to  save 
her  little  ones  from  starvation,  and  the  sin,  if  God  will 
call  it  sin,  for  a  mother  to  make  a  sacrifice  of  all  the 
noble  principles  of  her  womanhood  for  the  little  ones 
that  He  has  given  her,  it  should  lay  at  that  ignoble  hus- 
band's door.  And  had  I  the  power  of  wielding  retri- 
bution, he,  and  not  she  and  her  children,  should  be  the 
one  to  sufier." 

When  she  had  concluded  there  was  silence  for  a 
moment,  which  was  broken  by  Mania's  low,  trembling 


384  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

voice,  for  down  deep  in  her  heart  there  was  a  stirring 
of  old  memories,  and  she  thanked  God,  that  although 
deserted,  and  the  shafts  had  fallen  thick  about  her,  she 
had  not  been  tempted  beyond  her  strength,  and  she 
said: 

"Let  us  not  judge  her  too  severely,  for  we  know  not 
what  her  temptations  have  been,  and  how  little  of  moral 
strength  she  had  left  to  resist  them.  And  while  we 
may  justly  condemn  the  sin,  we  must  not  sin  ourselves, 
by  letting  her  suffer  in  our  midst,  for  we  are  commanded 
to  do  good  to  all,  and  who  knows  but  in  ministering  to 
this  woman  in  her  affliction,  we  may  be  the  means,  in 
God's  hands,  of  saving  a  soul." 

With  this,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ford  joined  them,  Mr.  Ford 
asking  her  hand  for  the  next  set,  saying: 

"  Just  this  once  for  to-night,  and  then  I  shall  leave 
you  both  to  other  partners.  And  as  they  went  on  to 
the  floor,  the  two  young  ladies  stepping  one  side.  Miss 
Yan  Dyke  said  with  haughty  scorn: 

"  What  a  strange  young  lady  she  is;  such  odd  whims, 
one  would  think  she  was  a  regular  old  Puritan,  were  it 
not  that  she  is  as  gay  in  dress,  and  enjoys  the  dance 
equally  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  Humph!  I  believe  she 
is  only  seeking  notoriety  after  all,  and  1  have  no  sym- 
pathy with  such  persons.  Besides  that  she  may  be  no 
better  herself  than  Mrs.  Horton.  All  we  know  of  her 
is  what  we  have  seen  in  the  last  few  days." 

Judge  Austin,  having  left  his  place  under  the  motto, 
was  sitting  alone  in  a  recess;  and  shaded  by  the  twining 
evergreens,  had,  unperceived  by  them,  heard  every  word 
of  the  conversation,  commencing  with  Marna  and  the 
young  man,  and  ending  with  the  satire  of  Miss  Yan  Dyke. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


885 


And  while  disgusted  with  the  sentiments  she  expressed, 
he  scarcely  knew  which  to  admire  the  most;  the  earnest 
advocate  for  the  rights  of  Mrs.  Horton,  or  the  soundly, 
reasoning  and  more  stately  Marna  Lowe;  yet  it  was  not 
difficult  for  him  to  understand  whixih  of  the  two  held 
control  of  the  most  tender  chord  of  his  nature;  and  as 
Marna  glided  with  elegance  and  graceful  ease  through 
the  mazy  dance,  he  did  not  lose  sight  of  her  for  a 
moment;  and  by  the  time  she  was  led  to  a  seat  by  the 
side  of  Mrs.  Ford,  he  was  ready  to  w^orship  at  her 
shrine,  and  seeking  Miss  Sanford,  asked  to  be  pre- 
sented to  her,  and  very  soon  the  three  were  engaged  in 
an  animated  conversation.  It  was  not  long,  however, 
before  Miss  Sanford  was  flitting  away  from  one  group 
of  friends  to  another,  exchanging  pleasant  greeting,  and 
forming  new  friendships.  When  left  to  themselves 
Marna  and  the  Judge  seemed  to  lose  the  gay  spirits 
which  had  prevailed  in  Miss  Sanford's  presence,  and  for 
a  moment  there  was  embarrassing  silence,  which  was 
broken  by  the  Judge,  saying: 

"  It  seems  to  me.  Miss  Lowe,  that  sometime  in  the 
past  we  have  met,  have  we  not?" 

"  Yes,"  responded  Marna,  in  a  quick,  nervous  w^ay, 
"in  the  streets  of  San  Francisco." 

"  I  know  of  those  meetings,  but  have  we  not  met  in 
the  years  previous  ?  Were  you  not  on  the  Pewabic,  when 
it  went  down  in  Lake  Huron,  and  sat  with  two  men 
upon  a  piece  of  wreck?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  w^as  all  that  Marna  could  say,  for  with 
one  great  sweep,  memory  had  taken  in  that  night  with 
all  its  terrors. 


386  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

Yes,  I  was  there  at  that  time."  As  she  said  this,  a 
look  of  pain  passed  over  her  face,  for  she  thought  of  the 
sad  ending  of  that  pleasant  trip. 

"Well,"  said  the  Judge,  "one  more  question  and  I 
am  through:  Were  you  in  a  hospital  in  Burksville,  dur- 
ing the  war,  and  while  there  did  you  not  write  a  letter 
for  a  wounded  soldier?" 

"Yes,  sir;  I  was  there  just  after  Burnside  forced  the 
pass  at  South  Mountain ;  and  I  remember  the  writing 
of  the  letter  as  well  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday."  And 
she  fixed  her  blue  eyes  on:'  those  of  the  Judge,  while  the 
red  and  white  shadows  passed  in  rapid  succession  over 
her  face,  and  she  fancied  that  he  could  almost  hear  the 
beatings  of  her  heart. 

"  I  am  glad  to  meet  you  again,"  said  he,  extending  a 
hand  and  rising.  "Through  all  these  years  T  have  not 
forgotten  your  kindness,  or  ceased  to  cherish  a  hope  of 
meeting  you  again,  and  to  prove  that  you  have  not  been 
forgotten,  see  this,"  taking  from  his  side  pocket  a 
small  copy  of  the  New  Testament,  between  the  leaves 
of  which  was  the  cluster  of  rose-buds  which  she  had 
given  him  at  parting, 

Marna  smiled,  and  essayed  to  speak.  But  her  quiv- 
ering lips  failed  to  give  utterance  to  the  words,  and  as 
just  at  this  moment  the  grand  promenade  was  forming, 
silently,  with  "  two  hearts  beating  as  one"  and  blending 
in  the  purest  and  holiest  of  hopes,  they  kept  step  to  the 
march.  During  tlie  festivities  of  the  evening  follow- 
ing, Marna  was  not  present,  and  the  brown  eyes  of  the 
Judge  looked  in  vain  to  see  her  form  with  each  new 
arrival.  At  length  he  learned  what  he  had  half  sur- 
mised before,  that  she  was  ministering  in  a  dingy  room* 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


387 


alone,  to  the  sick  woman,  whose  blighted  life  was  near- 
ingits  closing  hours,  and  he  said  in  his  heart,  Blessed 
are  the  merciful." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


AUNT  MANDA's  tour. 

"  Where  is  your  Father,  Lijah?  This  ere  letter  that 
you  give  me  is  from  Mrs.  Bradly,  in  San  Franco,  Cali- 
forny,  and  I  must  see  your  Father,  this  blessed  mmit. 
O,  here  you  come,  Jonathan ;  I  thought  you  never  was 
goin'  to  get  your  chores  done,  and  get  into  the  house." 

"  What's  up,  now.  Mother,  that  you  are  in  sich  a 
hurry  to  have  me  come  in?"  said  Mr.  Geddiz,  as  he 
hung  up  his  hat,  and  set  aside  his  heavy  boots,  pre- 
paratory to  an  evening's  doze  in  his  great  arm  chair. 

"  Set  right  down  now,  Jonathan,  and  Susan,  you  reed 
the  letter." 

But  as  was  her  habit,  she  had  the  entire  contents  of 
the  letter  repeated,  before  Susan  had  a  chance  to  read  a 
word. 

"  You  know.  Father,  that  Mrs.  Bradly  has  always  felt 
kind  o'like,  as  if  I  was  her  second  mother,  like,  ever 
since  I  took  care  of  her  when  she  was  sick  in  New  York 
city,  and  then  you  know  my  takin'  of  sich  an  interest 
in  that  child  that  was  stole,  and  puttin'  all  together,  she 
seems  to  think  a  heep  of  me,  and  wliat  do  you  think? 
she  wants  you  and  me  to  come  to  see  them;  she  wants 
we  should  come  right  off,  too,  and  stay  two  or  three 
months-  and  she  says  the  fall  and  winter  is  as  pleasant 
in  Californy  most,  as  our  summers."  Here  the  old  lady 
broke  off,  with:   ''JNow,  Jonathan  Geddiz!    If  you 

388 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


389 


hav'nt  gone  tight  to  sleep,  and  not  been  hearing  the  half 
that  I  was  sayin'." 

"  Was  you  talking,  Mother?  I  was  waitin'  to  hear 
Susan  reed  the  letter,  but  I  guess  you've  told  the  most 
of  it,  and  we  will  wait  till  mornin'  for  the  rest,  as  I  am 
tired  and  sleepy,"  said  Mr.  Geddiz,  with  a  yawn,  as  he 
started  towards  the  bed  room. 

"Now  you  stop,  Jonathan  Geddiz,  and  tell  me:  Did 
you  hear  what  I  said?" 

"  Yes,  mother,  I  heard  every  word.  Are  they  all 
well?"  he  said,  without  a  shadow  of  interest  in  the  invi- 
tation to  visit  them,  more  than  to  take  it  as  compli- 
mentary in  Mrs.  Bradly,  who,  he  thought,  would  not 
have  the  least  idea  that  persons  of  their  age  would 
attempt  such  a  trip. 

But  Mrs.  Geddiz  did  not  look  at  the  matter  m  that 
light.  She  knew  that  Mrs.  Bradly  would  be  glad  to  see 
them,  and,  moreover,  she  would  expect  them,  and  it 
would  be  too  bad  to  disappoint  her,  and  she  insisted 
upon  having  the  matter  settled  at  once,  as  she  should 
not  be  able  to  sleep  a  wink  until  it  was. 

"  Why,  Mother,"  said  Lijah,  "  the  idea  of  a  woman 
seventy  years  of  age,  and  of  a  man  two  years  older  than 
you,  going  clear  to  California  on  a  visit.  I  am  afraid 
you  would  never  come  back  alive.  I  wouldn't  think  of 
such  a  thing  if  I  were  you." 

"  I  suppose,"  she  respoiided  rather  tartly,  "that  you 
think  your  mother  is  childish^  and  not  fit  to  leave  home, 
but  Lijah  Geddiz  1  want  you  to  know  that  I  am  good 
for  fifteen  or  twenty  years  yet,  if  I  don't  get  sick 
and  die,  nor  get  killed.  I  never  had  a  relation  on  my 
father's  side  die,  under  ninety  or  ninety-five  years  of 


^90  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

age,  unless  they  got  some  disease  that  tuk  them  off 
before  their  time;  and  I  never  was  in  better  health  than 
I  am  this  blessed  minit.  Besides,  what  is  there  to  do 
but  to  take  a  seat  in  the  cars,  and  set  still  till  you  get 
there?  We  can  take  some  vit'als  along,  so  we  won't  have 
to  be  gettin'  on  and  off  so  much."  But  seeing  that 
Lijah  made  no  response,  she  continued :  ^'  I  s'pose  you 
think  your  mother  don't  know  how  to  travel,  do  you? 
Wasn't  I  off  on  a  long  trip  once,  with  your  father  and 
Adaline?  And  didn't  I  come  clear  home  from  New  York 
City,  all  alone,  by  myself  ?  And  didn't  father  and  me 
go  to  the  Centenniel  last  year,  and  stay  two  whole 
weeks?  I  guess  I  know  somethin'  yet,  if  I  am  seventy 
years  old,  and  7'm  goin'  to  see  Californy,  if  I  live  two 
months  longer.  What's  the  use  of  us  havin'  a  world, 
if  we  can't  see  and  enjoy  it?  I'm  sure  God  had  some 
design  in  makin'  it  so  beautiful,  especially  Californy, 
and  I  regard  Mrs.  Bradly's  askin'  us  to  come,  as  a  call 
from  Him  for  us  to  look  upon  that  portion  of  His  mortal 
heritage,  and  to  see  in  that  vineyard  the  great  display 
of  His  handy-work." 

For  Mrs.  Geddiz  to  suggest,  meant  for  the  rest  to 
acquiesce,  in  all  of  her  earlier  life,  and  it  was  no  easy 
matter  to  make  a  change  in  the  later  years;  so,  before 
they  retired,  it  was  settled  that  they  start  at  the  earliest 
day  possible,  after  the  harvest  was  over;  so  all  the  next 
day,  and  for  days  following,  as  Mrs.  Geddiz  assisted 
Susan  in  preparing  the  meals  for  the  men  folks,  who 
were  getting  in  the  wheat,  she  was  planning  for  the 
trip.  As  she  had  been  to  the  Centennial  the  year 
before,  her  w^ardrobe  was  in  a  very  good  condition, 
everything  having  been  put  carefully  away  upon  her 


A  stok  :  of  real  life.  391 

return,  and  had  scarcely  been  looked  at  since.  At  the 
appointed  time  everything  was  in  readiness,  and  with 
one  large  trunk,  and  two  baskets  containing  roast 
chicken,  boiled  ham,  and  everything  else  in  quantity 
sufficient  to  last  them  through  a  much  'longer  journey, 
together  with  a  number  of  smaller  packages,  they  were 
ready  to  start.  The  cars  were  now  running  through 
Broadtop  village,  and  when  ''Lijah"  and  Susan  had 
seen  them  seated,  and  had  bidden  them  good  bye,  they 
returned  to  their  home,  with  the  feeling  that  it  was  an 
unwise  freak  in  the  old  folks  to  undertake  so  long  a 
journey. 

"  If  they  only  keep  well,"  said  Elijah,  they  will  be 
all  right,  for  mother  has  the  pluck  to  go  around  the 
globe  if  she  took  it  into  her  head  to  go,  but  I  wouldn't 
trust  father  to  go  very  far  alone.  lie's  too  easy,  and  is 
always  stopping  to  talk  with  everyone,  and  he  is  not  a 
bit  careful,  he  could  be  swindled  out  of  his  eyes  if  a 
sharper  should  happen  to  get  hold  of  him,  but  they 
don't  fool  mother  a  bit — she's  enough  for  them,  any- 
time." 

Meanwhile  the  old  couple  were  taking  in  all  the 
eights  along  the  road,  Mrs.  Geddiz  stopping  about  every 
half  hour  to  take  a  look  into  her  lunch  basket,  and  count 
her  packages;  she  did  not  rest  well  the  first  night, 
owing  to  the  change  in  her  surroundings,  and  as  a  con- 
sequence did  not  feel  very  lively  the  next  day;  did  net 
pay  quite  so  much  attention  to  the  scenery,  and  being  left 
alone  for  a  time,  as  Mr.  Geddiz  had  gone  to  the  farther 
end  of  the  car,  and  was  in  conversation  with  a  couple 
of  men,  who  were  amusing  him  with  their  daring 
exploits  with  the  Indians,  on  the  frontiers  where  they 


392  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

had  spent  the  past  two  or  three  years;  and  one  of  them 
was  on  his  way  to  San  Francisco,  where  his  family 
resided.  He  learning  that  the  old  gentleman  was  also 
en  route  for  that  place,  immediately  began  cultivat- 
ing his  acquaintance,  and  Mr.  Geddiz,  pleased  with  the 
attention  shown  him,  was  very  conversant,  and  in  turn 
gave  them  his  experience,  not  only  with  the  Indians, 
but  with  the  wolves  and  bears,  in  the  early  settlement  of 
that  part  of  Pennsylvania,  where  he  had  lived  for  the 
past  sixty  years. 

During  this  time,  Mrs.  Geddiz  thought  she  would 
improve  the  time  in  making  the  acquaintance  of  a  near 
neighbor,  so  taking  a  seat  by  her  side,  she  told  of  the 
journey  she  was  taking,  and  in  return  she  learned  that 
her  new  acquaintance  was  on  her  way  to  Salt  Lake  City. 
Mrs.  Geddiz,  like  many  others,  had  but  one  idea  of 
that  place,  and  she  drew  back  with  some  surprise,  say- 
ing: 

"Be  you  one  of  Mr.  Young's  wives?" 

Whereupon  the  lady  informed  her  that  she  was  a 
Gentile,  and  had  resided  there  for  the  past  five  years, 
her  husband  being  an  officer  stationed  there;  and  then 
Mrs.  Geddiz  plied  her  with  all  manner  of  questions 
respecting  the  place  and  the  people,  especially  the  family 
of  Young. 

"  What's  the  use,"  she  said,  "  of  having  a  Salt  Lake 
City,  and  a  Mr.  Young,  if  you  never  git  to  see  them? 
I  always  did  want  to  see  the  man  that  so  many  women 
was  ravin'  after,  though  I  don't  s'pose  he's  any  great 
affair  after  all  the  fuss,  least-wise  I'm  perfectly  satisfied 
with  my  Jonathan,  he's  always  been  as  good  to  me  as 
Mr.  Young,  or  any  other  man  could  be." 


"  This  ere  letter  that  you  givl:  me  is  from  Mrs.  Bradly." 
See  page  888. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


393 


So  after  being  assured  by  the  highly  amused  lady  that 
it  would  be  perfectly  safe  for  her  to  visit  the  city,  she 
decided  that  tliey  would  go  there,  and  spend  a  few  days, 
and  as  she  saw  her  husband  approaching,  she  went  to 
meet  him,  saying: 

"  Jonathan,  we  have  decided  to  go  to  Salt  Lake  City, 
and  stay  a  few  days." 

We?  Who  is  we?"  said  her  husband,  with  a  good- 
natured  smile. 

''Me  and  you,  of  course.  Who  would  it  be?  You 
know.  Father,  that  we  have  read  and  liearn  tell  so  much 
about  that  place,  and  Mr.  Young,  the  man  that  has  so 
many  wives,  and  you  know  I  always  did  want  to  see 
him.  That  nice  looking  woman  over  there  lives  at  Salt 
Lake,  and  she  says  it  will  be  perfectly  safe  for  me  to  go, 
and.  Father,  don't  you  think  we  had  better  go  now  that 
we  are  so  near?" 

"  I  guess  so;"  said  Mr.  Geddiz,  in  rather  of  a  patron- 
izing manner,  for  he,  too,  had  something  to  communicate?. 
So  when  they  were  seated,  he  said:  "  Mother,  my  heart 
has  been  deeply  touched  this  day,  and  I  see  more  and 
more,  the  longer  I  live,  how  very  mysterious  are  God's 
ways;"  and  then  with  a  sigh,  he  continued:  ''but  I 
s'pose  we'll  just  have  to  keep  on  long  as  we  live,  takin' 
Him  as  He  is.  You  saw  me  talking  to  them  two  men 
back  there,  didn't  you?  Well,  while  we  was  a  talkin', 
another  man  came  in  from  the  other  car,  and  when  he 
saw  them  men  he  know'd  them,  and  he  asked  the  one 
that  lives  in  San  Francisco,  near  Mr.  Bradly,  to  lend  him 
three  hundred  dollars,  as  he  was  going  to  some  little 
town  out  here  a  ways,  to  attend  his  mother's  funeral,  and 
as  his  folks  were  poor,  he  expected  he'd  have  to  pay  all 


894  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

the  funeral  expenses,  and  the  doctor's  bill,  and  every- 
thing  else;  and  the  poor  fellow  seemed  to  feel  so  bad 
like,  that  the  men  pitied  him,  and  said  they  would  be 
glad  to  lend  it  to  him,  but  they  could  not  raise  but  a 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  between  them ;  so  the  man  that 
is  going  right  with  us  to  San  Francisco,  said  if  I  would 
lend  him  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  he  would  pay  it 
right  back  as  soon  as  we  got  to  San  Francisco.  So  I  felt 
kind  of  sorry  for  the  man  that  has  the  dead  mother, 
and  I  thought  if  our  Lijah  was  going  somewhere  tp 
bury  his  mother,  and  hadn't  money  enough,  and  folks 
that  had  plenty  would  refuse  to  lend  it  to  him,  that  you 
and  me  would  both  feel  real  bad  about  it;  so  I  lent  the 
man  the  twenty-five  dollars  that  I  had  in  my  wallet,  and 
told  him  I  would  get  the  rest  from  you." 

"What!  Jonathan  Geddiz,"  said  the  old  lady,  with  a 
screech.  "  You  lend  a  teetotal  stranger  twenty-five  dol- 
lars, and  want  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  more  to  lend 
to  him,  so  that  he  can  lend  it  to  another  man.  Not  one 
cent  of  it,  Jonathan  Geddiz,  will  you  get  of  it  from  me 
for  that  purpose,  and  more  nor  that  I  have  no  idee  that 
the  man  ever  had  a  mother,  or  that  the  other  one  ever 
heard  of  San  Frisco,  until  you  told  him  that's  where 
you  were  goin'.  Haven't  you  cut  your  eye  teeth  yet, 
Jonathan?  They 's  black-legs,  swindlers,  and  ma'be  mur- 
derers, and  you  go  right  away  and  git  your  money  back 
again,  and  tell  him  that  /,  your  wife,  Manda  Geddiz, 
don't  favor  the  arrangement  a  bit." 

""Well,  well,  mother;"  said  Mr.  Geddiz,  as  he  slowly 
rose  from  his  seat,  "  perhaps  you  are  right,  but  I  hadn't 
thought  of  that,  so  I'll  go  right  and  get  it,  now  I'm 
glad  you  spoke  of  it." 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


395 


During  their  conversation  the  train  had  stopped,  and 
the  men,  doubtless,  knowing  by  Mrs.  Geddiz 's  manner, 
that  they  had  got  about  all  out  of  the  old  gentleman 
that  they  were  likely  to,  had  left  the  train,  leaving  more 
persons  than  one,  to  mourn  their  departure."  Mr. 
Geddiz,  not  satisfied  with  not  finding  the  men  where  he 
had  left  them,  went  from  one  car  to  another,  but  was 
unable  to  get  trace  of  them.  After  some  time  he 
returned  to  his  wife,  somewhat  crestfallen. 
,  "  Did  you  git  your  money  back?"  said  his  wife  as  he 
took  his  seat  by  her  side.  No;  I'll  warrant  you  didn't, 
or  jou  wouldn't  be  so  meek  like.  Jonathan  Geddiz,  1 
hope  you  w^ill  learn  sometime  to  take  care  of  your  own 
liard  earnings.  I  should  think  after  you  losin'  two 
hundred  dollars  at  the  Centenel,  in  just  about  tha^ 
same  way,  you  would  have  learned  a  lesson  ;  now  that 
twenty-five  dollars  would  have  paid  all  our  extra  expen- 
ses to  Salt  Lake  City,  but  I'm  bound  not  to  give  it  up 
any  way." 

Well,  mother,"  said  Mr.  Geddiz;  "  if  you  will  never 
tell  Lijah  about  this  little  swindle,  we  will  go  to  Salt 
Lake  City,  and  stay  until  you  are  tired  of  it." 

"  I  don't  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  as  they  walked 
out  through  the  city,  the  next  morning  after  their 
arrival,  that  all  the  women  wanted  to  be  Mr.  Young's 
wife,  if  they  could  live  in  such  a  pretty  place.  Do  see, 
the  river  runnin'  all  along  in  front  of  their  houses,  right 
in  the  middle  of  the  street.  Isn't  it  nice?  they  can 
just  set  at  the  winder  from  mornin'  till  night,  and  look 
at  that  beautiful  water." 

Mr.  Geddiz  said  but  little.  He  was  beginning  to 
realize  that  he  was  not  quite  so  shrewd  as  his  wife,  and 


396  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

he  was  humiliated  with  the  thought.  Honest,  kind  and 
unsuspecting  in  his  nature,  he  had  been  more  than  once 
the  unfortunate  victim  of  misplaced  confidence;  and 
yet,  he  always  comforted  himself  with  the  thought  that 
the  sin  was  not  his  own. 

Having  gained  permission  from  some  of  the  women 
to  enter  their  homes,  Mrs.  Geddiz  said,  when  once  again 
on  the  street: 

"  Father,  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  that  I  am  not  a  Mrs. 
Young.  I  don't  see  but  they  look  just  like  other 
women,  that  have  to  work  for  a  lot  of  children,  and  I 
am  sure  the  little  frousle  heads  look  as  wild  as  anybody's 
children,  and  that  woman  that  was  washin'  the  baby, 
looked  just  like  that  Mrs.  Morris,  that  had  that  child, 
that  was  stole  from  New  York,  and  I  don't  see  why  I 
didn't  ask  her  if  she  wasn't  Mrs.  Morris.  I've  a  good 
notion  to  go  right  back  now,  and  ask  her,  and  ma' be  she 
has  the  child  here.  But  let  me  see.  She'd  be  twenty- 
three  or  four  years  old  by  this  time,  and  ma'be  she's  one 
of  Mr.  Young's  wives,  too;"  and  before  Mr.  Geddiz  had 
time  to  expostulate  with  her  about  returning  she  was 
inside  the  door. 

The  woman  referred  to,  looked  up  in  some  surprise  as 
Mrs.  Geddiz  walked  up  to  her,  extending  her  hand,  and 
saying:  Mrs.  Young,  1  s'pose  you  don't  remember  me. 
I  am  Mrs.  Geddiz,  of  Broadtop,  Pennsylvania — Aunt 
Manda,  as  everybody  round  there  calls  me — and  I  used 
to  know  you  when  you  was  Mrs.  Morris." 

The  woman  in  a  gentle  way  informed  her  that  she 
was  mistaken,  as  Mrs.  Morris  had  never  been  her  name. 

"  Be  you  real  sure  of  it,  now?"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz; if 
it  was,  you  needn't  be  afeard  to  say  so,  for  that  child  is 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


397 


a  woman  long  ago,  and  the  folks  wouldn't  want  her  now 
she's  got  so  old." 

But  the  woman  persisted  in  saying  that  she  had  never 
been  Mrs.  Morris,  and,  moreover,  that  she  had  never  lived 
in  Pennsylvania,  and  Mrs.  Geddiz  joined  her  husband 
with  some  disappointment,  yet  avering  that  she  knew 
that  it  was  Mrs.  Morris.  Saying,  "  she's  just  ashamed 
to  own  it  now,  since  she's  got  up  so  high  as  to  be  Mrs. 
Young.  I  don't  think  that's  any  great  thing  to  be, 
after  all  the  fuss,  and  I'll  warrant  you,  Father,  old  as  I 
am,  I  could  have  been  Mrs.  Young,  if  I  had  wanted  to 
be,  but  I'm  perfectly  satisfied  with  my  lot." 

"Yes;"  said  the  old  gentleman,  who  had  been  so 
wholly  absorbed  in  his  own  thoughts  as  only  to  catch 
the  last  sentence.  "  If  we  only  had  a  new  house  on  to 
it,  there  wouldn't  be  a  pleasanter  place  round  Broadtop, 
and  if  we  had  not  taken  this  trip  we  might  have  helped 
Lijah  build  by  spring." 

"Jonathan  Geddiz;"  said  the  old  lady,  laying  hold  of 
his  arm  and  shaking  him.  "  What  are  you  talkin'  about? 
have  you  gone  clear  beside  yourself  on  account  of  losin' 
that  money?  You  haven't  'peared  a  bit  like  yourself 
since.  But  come  now.  Father,  let  bygones  be  bygones. 
Besides,  it  wasn't  very  much  anyway.  Now,  you  cheer 
up,  and  prehaps  we  can  get  in  to  see  the  corpse  of  Mr. 
Young.  Isn't  it  too  awful  bad  that  he  had  to  die  jist 
as  we  came  to  see  him  ?" 

"We  had  a  good  chance  to  see  him  if  you  hadn't  gone 
back  to  see  Mrs.  Morris,"  said  Mr.  Geddiz;  "there  was 
fchree  men  went  past  where  I  was  standing,  and  I 
know'd  they  was  going  some  place,  so  I  asked  them  if 
they  were  going  to  view  the  corpse ;  and  they  said  they 


398  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 


was,  and  if  I  would  like  to  see  the  remains,  I  could  go 
along  with  them,  for  he  was  in  some  kind  of  a  state,  for 
folks  to  look  at  him." 

"  I  do  wonder,"  broke  in  Mrs.  Geddiz  at  this  point, 
"  if  it  is  the  same  kind  of  a  state  they  laid  Mr. 
Lincoln,  and  all  the  other  bi^  men  in.  If  it  is, 
I'd  like  to  see  that,  just  as  much  as  I  would  che 
corpse.  I'm  kinder  glad  after  all  we  happened  to 
come  jist  at  this  time.  Poor  old  man,  I  expect  he 
had  'bout  all  he  could  do  to  provide  for  so  many! 
Sich  a  monstrous  family!  j;st  think  of  it;  and  him  so 
old — one  of  his  wives  told  me  that  he  was  seventy-six 
years  old  the  first  day  of  last  June;  jist  six  years,  to 
a  day,  older  than  me.  Say,  father,"  she  continued; 
"  Do  you  think  his  wives  felt  very  bad  about  his  bein' 
dead.  They  all  seemed  to  be  workin'  right  along,  as  if 
nothin'  had  happened;  now,  I  wouldn't  do  that,  if  he 
wasnH  but  di  part  of  a  husband.  I  do  wonder  if  they'll 
all  dress  in  mournin',  and  the  children,  too.  I  forgot  te 
ask  the  woman  about  that,  I  s'poso  they  will  though^ 
but  it  will  take  an  awful  sight  of  black  stuff.  I  dc 
pity  the  children  now,  since  their  only  lawful  relation  is* 
dead.  I  s'pose  likely  he  took  good  care  of  'em  though, 
seein'  they  was  all  his  own." 

"Yes^  I  s'pose  so/'  said  Mr.  Geddiz,  and  the  old 
lady  continued: 

I  shouldn't  think  they'd  hardly  know  who  they  do 
belong  to,  now  since  he's  gone.  Jist  think  of  it;  they 
have  step-mothers  backwards,  and  step-mothers  forwards. 
Vm  sure  I  wouldn't  like  to  have  my  children  so  mixed 
up  like,  would  you,  Father?" 

Jnst  at  this  moment  there  were  two  men  passing  by 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  399 

them,  and  Mr.  Geddiz,  stepping  up  to  them,  asked  if 
they  were  on  their  way  to  see  the  corpse  of  Mr.  Young, 
and  being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  he  asked  permis- 
sion for  himself  and  wife  to  accompany  them,  as  thop' 
were  strangers  in  the  city,  which  was  readily  granted. 

There  were  but  few  persons  present,  so  they  spent 
some  time  in  looking  at  and  commenting  upon  the  sur- 
rounding, of  the  one^  whose  seed  sowing  will  bring  to 
our  beautiful  America  a  great  harvest  of  tarea^  for  the 
reaping  of  generations,  after  generations  have  passed 
away;  and  when,  at  last,  the  fire  that  shall  some  day 
break  out,  and  in  wild  fury  throw  up  lurid  tongues,  to 
consume  the  accursed  crop,  nothing  but  a  deluge  of 
blood  can  quench  those  flames  and  wash  away  the  stains 
of  this^  the  greatest  curse,  that  our  fair  land  has  ever 
known. 

A  few  hours  later  found  them  on  their  way  again, 
and  when  they  arrived  in  San  Francisco  they  were  so 
thoroughly  weary  as  to  need  some  days  for  rest,  before 
they  were  ready  for  sight-seeing,  and  when  they  once 
got  at  it  they  were  not  satisfied  with  San  Francisco, 
Oakland,  and  the  surrounding  country  with  its  wonder- 
ful beauty ;  but  Sacramento  and  Sacramento  Yalley,  San 
Pase,  Santa  Barbara,  Los  Angelos,  and,  in  fact,  almost 
every  place  of  importance  was  taken  in,  and  there  was 
no  end  to  the  pleasures  for  the  aged  sight-seers;  and 
between  taking  a  few  days  for  rest  every  little  while,  and 
the  number  of  places  visited,  the  time  flew  by  so  rapidly 
that  not  until  two  weeks  previous  to  Thanksgiving  did 
they  speak  of  returning,  and  when  they  did  so,  Mrs. 
Bradly  insisted  upon  their  remaining  until  after  Thanks- 
giving, as  she  was  expecting  company  from  New  York, 


400  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

who  would  remain  until  after  that  time,  and  they  could 
return  together.  It  did  not  take  much  to  convince  Mrs. 
Geddiz  that  it  would  be  more  pleasant  to  have  company, 
than  to  travel  alone,  so  it  was  decided  at  once  that  they 
should  remain.  Mrs.  Bradly  had  learned  in  early  life 
to  appreciate  Aunt  Manda's  good  qualities,  and  overlook 
her  idiosyncrasies,  hence  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  her 
now  to  adjust  herself  to  her  odd  ways,  and  the  days  they 
spent  together  passed  very  pleasantly. 

Little  Nellie  Clare  was  often  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion, and  one  upon  which  they  both  loved  to  dwell. 
Mrs.  Geddiz  told  of  her  experience  in  the  child's  behalf; 
she  gave  a  graphic  description  of  that  long  night  ride, 
and  of  her  husband's  severe  illness  in  consequence,  and 
of  the  Morris  family,  until  Mrs.  Bradly  seemed  to  be 
living  over  again  those  months  of  painful  anxiety.  "And, 
just  to  think,"  she  said,  "  that  Aunt  Cristine,  was  the 
cause  of  it  all,  and  I  have  thought  sometimes  that  it 
was  almost  more  than  I  could  forgive,  but  as  she  died 
craving  our  forgiveness,  I  have  tried  to  do  so,  and  leave 
the  sin  with  her  own  heart  and  her  God." 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  "and  she  suffered  enough, 
mor'n  all  the  profit,  'twas  to  her,  and  I  concluded  long 
ago  to  let  bygones  be  bygones,  as  fur  as  she  was 
concerned." 

One  evening  when  they  were  alone,  the  subject  was 
renewed,  when  Mrs.  Bradly  said: 

"  Oh,  how  often,  even  after  these  many  years,*  in  the 
night  time,  I  have  seemed  to  hear  her  plaintive,  little 
wail  ringing  through  the  darkness  of  my  room,  and  I 
liave  longed  to  know  the  fate  of  that  child;  and  when 
God  took  my  own  three  little  ones,  and  I  saw  them  laid 


A  STOEY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


401 


side  by  side  in  the  same  grave,  I  could  but  feel  in  my 
anguish  some  comfort,  for  I  know  that  they  we^^e  saved 
from  the  sins  and  sorrows  of  life;  and  of  Nellie  I  knew 
nothing.  She  may  have  been  surrounded  by  poverty,  sor- 
row and  temptation,  and  may  even  now  be  a  disgrace  to 
her  sex,  on  account  of  those  very  surroundings,  but  I 
have  prayed  every  niglit  of  my  life,  and  shall  not  cease 
to  do  so  while  I  live,  that  God  will  give  her  strength  for 
every  trial  and  temptation  that  she  may  have,  and  I  can- 
not," she  added,  '^get  rid  of  the  thought,  but  that  some 
day,  in  some  one  of  God's  wise  designs,  she  will  come 
to  my  arms  again.  For  this  I  have  prayed,  and  I 
believe  that  God  hears  our  prayers,  and,  moreover,  that 
He  commissions  our  loved  ones  to  watch  over  and  guard 
and  guide  us;  and,  if  that  be  true,  will  He  not  permit 
that  dear  child's  mother  to  guide  her  back  to  me?" 

"■Wh;y!  Mrs.  Bradly,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Geddiz,  ''there 
is  no  airthly  need  of  the  child's  mother  doin'  that.  Jist 
as  if  the  dear  Lord  couldn't  do  it  Himself,  jist  as  easy 
as  he  could  send  somebody  else  to  do  it." 

"  Yes,"  responded  Mrs.  Bradly,  "  I  know  that  God 
can  do  all  things,  but  are  we  not  all  servants  to  our 
'  Great  High  Priest,'  and  I  believe  that  after  death,  we 
constitute  in  part  the  great  Omniscient  Being,  and  are 
really  necessary  to  Him,  as  His  Omnipresent  power; 
and  when  He  sees  that  we  have  been  educated  sufficiently 
by  our  own  sorrows,  our  joys,  and  our  loves  on  earth, 
to  enable  us  to  take  up  the  mission  that  He  has  for  us, 
and  that  we  can  do  it  better  when  not  cumbered  with 
these  clay  tenements.  He  takes  us  to  Himself,  and  gives 
to  each  their  work.  It  may  be  that  He  has  designed 
that  you,  or  I,  shall  be  the  especial  agent  througli  which 

26 


402  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YCRK  SOCIETY; 

He  will  save  some  soul;  if  so,  we  will  be  guided  to  that 
one  by  some  unseen,  and  seeming,  irresistible  power,  and 
we  may  wonder,  as  we  often  do,  why  certain  things  are 
so;  and  it  may  be  that  even  while  in  life  we  may  win 
the  love  and  confidence  of  the  person,  but  our  different 
circumstances  and  vocations  may  prove  a  barrier  to  the 
accomplishment  of  their  salvation,  and  the  All  Wise 
One,  seeing  that  the  w^ork  could  be  better  done  through 
our  disembodied  spirits,  calls  us  to  lay  down  the  burden." 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Bradly,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  a  seri- 
ous air,  "  I  can't,  for  the  life  of  me,  see  it  jist  as  you  do. 
I  don't  want  to  trust  my  soul's  salvation  with  any  of 
them  disinterest  spirits.  I  w^ant  nobody  but  God  to 
attend  to  that.  I  guess  He'll  be  the  one  that'll  do  all 
the  soul-savin'  that's  ever  done." 

"  I  am  afraid.  Aunt  Manda,  that  you  do  not  get  my 
meaning,"  said  Mrs.  Bradly;  "  let  me  ask  you  a  ques- 
tion or  two.  Wliy  do  you  ask  God  to  make  you  instru- 
mental in  saving  souls,  or  be  the  means  in  His  hands  of 
bringing  some  one  into  the  Christ-life?" 

Well,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  "  that  is  all  because  I  love 
the  Lord,  and  want  to  do  somethin'  fur  Him;  somethin' 
that  shall  give  me  joy  while  I  live,  and  a  star  of  reioicin' 
in  Heaven." 

"Just  so,"  responded  Mrs.  Bradly,  "and  on  that  same 
principle  will  our  work  go  on  through  all  eternity,  with 
the  exception  that  there  is  some  special  work  for  each 
individual,  both  in  this  life  and  in  that  which  is  to 
come.  Just  as  an  architect,  when  he  sets  his  men  to 
work,  giving  to  each  his  part,  to  some  the  coarser  and 
plainer  work,  to  others  the  polishing  and  beautifying  of 
the  strvcture;  and  when  they  have  finished  their  work 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


403 


ill  the  lower  rooms,  he  takes  them  to  those  above  and 
gives  to  each  the  work  for  which  they  are  especially 
fitted,  and  for  the  well-doing  of  which  he  will  hold  them 
personally  responsible,  and  as  he  works  through  them, 
so  the  Great  Spirit  does  His  work  of  building  up  the 
heavenly  mansion  through  us  if  we  but  do  His  will." 

"  Through  iis?^'*  said  Mrs.  Geddiz  in  great  surprise. 
"  Well,  I  'spose  you  have  a  better  edication  than  I  have, 
and  orter  to  know,  and  I  don't  per  tend  to  say  more  nor 
my  Bible  tells  me,  but  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  Christ 
said:  '  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you,  and  in  my 
Father's  house  are  many  mansions;  and  if  I  go  and 
prepare  a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again  and  receive 
you  unto  myself,  that  where  I  am  ye  may  be  also.' 
Now,  isn't  that  Scriptur  plain  enough  that  He  will  pre- 
pare the  place,  and  that  He  will  come  Hisself  for  us? 
and  I  should  think  by  that  He  meant  everybody,  or  He 
wouldn't  have  said  it  in  that  way,  and  I  never  could 
believe  that  He  elected  jist  a  few  inter  everlastin'  salva- 
tion." 

"  I  believe  with  you,"  answered  Mrs.  Bradly,  "  that 
He  has  prepared  a  place  for  all  who  will  do  His  will  and 
strive  to  enter  in  at  the  narrow  gate;  but  we  were  speak- 
ing of  the  mansions  prepared  for  us.  Suppose  that 
some  wealthy  man  w^ould  build  a  magnificent  house, 
with  many  rooms,  and  invite  the  poor  and  homeless  to 
come  and  take  possession  and  find  shelter  there,  but  that 
they  would  be  expected  to  furnish  their  own  apartments, 
as  he  could  not  do  it  all,  and  they  sat  with  folded  hands 
in  idleness;  and  then  suppose  that  you  and  I  are  among 
the  number  w^ho  accept  that  invitation,  and  we  should  go 
empty-handed,  do  you  not  think  that  even  in  that  mag- 


404  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

iiificent  home  we  would  starve  if  we  had  no  food,  and 
the  winter  winds  would  chill  us  if  our  clothing  was 
scant,  and  the  night's  darkness  would  be  so  dense  as  to 
make  life  miserable,  had  we  no  light.  I  think  the  dear 
Christ  expects  us  to  obey  this  command,  '  Lay  up  for 
yourselves  treasures  in  heaven;'  and  I  believe  that  every 
good  work  that  we  do  here  is  gathered  up  and  garnered 
away  in  the  mansion  prepared  for  us,  and  when  we  take 
possession  they  will  be  food,  robes,  and  light  while  the 
endless  ages  roll;  and  if  our  works  are  few  and  idly 
done,  our  pleasures  will  be  comparatively  small.  'As  ye 
sow  so  shall  ye  reap.'  '  If  ye  sow  to  the  spirit  of  the 
spirit  ye  shall  reap.'  These  are  texts  of  Scripture  upon 
which  I  love  to  dwell,  and  I  feel  that  if  we  do  not  sow 
to  the  spirit  the  harvest  time  will  be  one  of  dreary  fail- 
ure." 

With  this,  Mrs.  Bradly  seemed  to  fall  into  a  reverie, 
from  which  she  was  aroused  a  few  moments  later  by 
Mrs.  Geddiz,  who  had  apparently  been  in  deep  thought. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  but  come  to  hear  you  talk,  Mrs. 
Bradly,  but  what  you  are  about  right  after  all;  least- 
wise it  sounds  kinder  reasonable  like,  and  I  was  just 
tliinkin'  of  the  poor  little  scanty  crop  that  some  on  us 
will  have,  specially  poor  Cristine  Baldwin,  and  if  the 
good  Lord  tuk  her  in  and  give  her  a  place,  I'm  afraid 
she'll  most  starve,  for  I  don't  think  she  had  very  much 
to  take  with  her,  and  the  dear  knows  I  shan't  have  very 
much  to  spare  to  her,"  and  Mrs.  Geddiz  gave  an  audible 
groan  as  she  thought  of  Mrs.  Baldwin's  desolate  man- 
sion. 

"Aunt  'Manda,"  said  Mrs.  Bradly,  when  she  had  con- 
cluded,   I  think  that  what  you  did  for  Aunt  Cristine 'in 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


405 


this  life,  for  which  she  proved  herself  so  ungrateful, 
ought  to  add  very  much  to  your  enjoyment  in  the  eter- 
nal world.  What  you  did  for  her  you  did  for  Christ. 
She  was  one  of  His  erring  children,  and  through  you 
was  brought  back  to  His  fold,  and  we  trust  was  saved, 
and  although  her  joy  may  not  be  so  great  as  if  she  had 
been  laying  up  treasures  in  heaven  instead  of  on  earth, 
we  ought  to  rejoice  that  she  was  permitted  to  enter  in 
through  the  pearly  gates." 

''Well,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  ''  I'm  so  glad  you  told  me 
all  this,  for  now  I  shall  go  home  determined  to  sow 
more  seed  the  rest  of  my  life,  and  then  ma'be  I  shall 
have  a  little  somethin'  to  spare  to  Cristine,  so  she  won't 
be  so  poor  like.  I  always  was  willin'  to  share  with  her 
here — if  she  didn't  treat  me  jist  right — if  it  was  only 
a  little  while.  I  'spose  she  could  get  along,  but  then 
through  all  eternity  will  be  an  awful  long  time  to 
struggle  along  with  poverty.  Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Brad- 
ly,"  she  continued,  "  that  I  never  thought,  till  I  heard 
you  talk,  that  we  would  have  to  do  any  work  there.  I 
'sposed  we'd  just  go  close  up  to  the  Throne  as  we  could 
git,  and  sing  and  play  on  to  our  harps — of  course  we'll 
all  git  a  harp  given  us,  don't  you  think  we  w^ill?" 

"  I  do  not  think,"  said  Mrs.  Bradly,  that  we  spend 
much  of  our- precious  time  about  the  Throne — more  than 
to  get  the  earth-work  which  the  Father  may  have  for  us 
to  do,  in  order  to  hasten  the  coming  of  His  kingdom, 
'when  all  shall  know  the  Lord;'  and  as  I  have  said 
before,  some  of  the  work  of  bringing  souls  to  Christ 
may  be  more  easily  done  when  we  are  not  burdened  with 
these  bodies.  For  instance,  if  God  saw  that  earthly 
friends,  with  their  example  and  teaching  and  His  blessed 


406  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

word,  failed  to  reach  my  heart  and  purify  and  prepare 
it  for  an  entrance  into  the  Celestial  City,  what  other 
means  could  be  more  elFec'tive  than  to  send  my  own 
little  ones  that  they,  by  their  unseen,  unheard  power, 
might  lead  me  up  to  a  higher  life;  and  it  has  been  such 
a  comfort  for  me  to  believe  that  at  times  those  dear  ones 
were  near  me,  and  although  I  could  not  see  or  hear 
them,  yet  at  such  times  the  very  atmosphere  seems  to 
be  laden  with  the  love  they  bring  to  me,  fresh  from  the 
hand  of  God." 

"Be  you  a  spiritulist?  You  ain't,  are  you?"  said 
Mrs.  Geddiz,  holding  up  both  hands,  with  an  expression 
of  holy  horror  upon  her  face. 

"  O,  no,"  replied  Mrs.  Bradly,  with  a  smile,  as  she 
saw  the  old  lady's  alarm,  "  by  no  means  am  I  what  is 
regarded  as  a  spiritualist  at  the  present  day.  I  am  just 
such  a  spiritualist  as  the  Bible  teaches  me  to  be;  and 
are  we  not  told  that  we  are  all  ministering  spirits?  and 
I  know  of  no  spirits  in  all  the  domain  of  Heaven  that 
could  nestle  down  so  close  into  my  heart,  and  by  their 
love  and  pure  angelic  influence  lead  me  into  a  true 
Christ-life,  as  could  my  own  dear  little  ones,  and  for  this 
reason  I  believe  there  is  work  in  Heaven  for  us  to  do. 
I  do  not  think  we  stop  long  at  the  Throne,  but  sing  our 
songs  of  praise  as  we  go  about  our  Father's  work;  and 
as  for  the  golden  harps  spoken  of  in  the  Bible  I  believe 
that  to  be  purely  figurative,  for  you  and  I  know  that  ten 
thousand  harps,  even  in  their  softest  vibrations,  would 
be  a  confusing  sound,  of  which  we  would  grow  weary; 
and  then  add  to  that  number  millions  upon  millions, 
and  imagine,  if  you  can,  the  din  and  confusion  of  the 
scene;  and  I  cannot  believe  it  means  aught  else  than 


A  STORY  OF  REXL  LIFE. 


407 


the  joyful  music  of  our  own  souls  as  in  their  sweetest, 
silent  stvsiim  they  sing,  the  flashing  light  of  the  glory 
they  experience  lighting  up  the  entire  space  of  the  glory, 
land  as  they  join  in  that  triumphant  song  of  the  saved 
soul:  'Unto  Him  who  hath  redeemed  us,  all  honor  and 
power  and  glory  belong,'  and  as  it  is  said  of  our  earthly 
emotions,  '  The  heart  speaks  most  when  the  lips  move 
not.'  So  I  think  we  have  but  to  look  upon  a  spirit  form 
to  realize  its  ecstatic  joy  in  the  radiant  halo  emanating 
from  them  as  tliey  go  on  in  their  bappy  flight,  meeting 
and  greeting  friends  as  well  as  the  saints  of  all  the  ages 
past." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz  with  a  sigh,  "  that 
does  seem  kinder  rational  like,  after  all,  but  I  alius 
thought  that  everybody  would  shout  and  sii^g  and  play 
on  to  their  harps  jist  as  loud  and  as  much  as  they 
wanted  to;  but  I  have  often  thought,  too,  it  would  be 
awful  confusin'  like,  but  it  seems  to  me  you  don't  say 
very  much  about  what  makes  us  shout  when  we  git  the 
blessin'  in  our  meetins." 

"  I  must  confess.  Aunt  Manda,"  responded  Mrs. 
Bradly,  "  that  I  have  had  but  little  experience  in  that 
direction.  My  first  great  joy  in  religion,  was  when  1 
was  brought  to  realize  that  Christ  was  willing  to  accept 
me  as  His  child  again,  upon  my  return  from  a  prodigal 
life,  but  that  joy  was  a  sweet  peace  in  believing,  and  all 
my  joys  since  then  have  been  derived  from  the  belief 
that  God  heard  my  prayers,  and  was  aiding  and  direct- 
ing me  in  the  work  that  I  was  trying  to  do  for  Him,  and 
although  I  could  not  always  see  that  my  labor  was  not 
in  vain,  yet  I  knew  that  He  hears  and  answers  prayer, 
and  will  direct  me  aright.  Perhaps  were  I  differently  con- 


408  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

stituted,  or  had  different  surroundings,  that  same  joy 
might  have  caused  me  to  shout  aloud,  and  I  believe  that 
the  dear  Father  hears  our  prayers,  and  in  answer  bestows 
upon  us  the  blessings  we  ask,  whether  it  be  upon  our 
spiritual^  mental^  or  manual  labor,  and  when  we  see 
that  He  has  blessed  and  prospered  the  effort,  then  comes 
the  joy  and  thanksgiving,-  and  while  the  different  tem- 
peraments may  manifest  their  joy  in  various  ways,  it  does 
not  follow  that  one  has  been  blessed  while  the  other  has 
been  ignored,  and  I  would  not  undertake  any  work  of 
importance  under  either  of  those  heads,  without  first 
asking  His  guidance  and  blessing  upon  it." 

"Oh,  how  much  faith  you  have  got,"  said  Mrs.  Ged- 
diz.  I  thought  with  all  your  new  fangled  notions, 
ma'be  you'd  let  that  slip  out." 

>'0,  no,"  responded  her  companion,  "but  I  believe 
that  '  faith  without  works  is  dead,'  and  we  must  not  be 
content  to  go  to  church  and  sing  and  pray,  and  do  noth- 
ing for  the  good  of  mankind.  The  Father  over  all, 
expects  us  to  care  for  the  earthly  w^ants  of  the  poor,  the 
sick,  and  the  sorrowing,  and  to  lead  His  weak  and  err- 
ing children  away  from  sin  into  the  Christ-life,  and  if 
we  fail  to  do  this,  we  will  surely  find  an  empty,  dreary 
mansion  awaiting  us." 

"  Yes,  I  guess  that  is  so,"  said  Mrs.  Geddiz,  with  a 
perplexed  expression  on  her  face,  as  if  the  ideas  were 
new  and  incomprehensible  to  her.  "And  seein' now  as 
we  are  talkin'  about  sich  things,  there  is  one  thing  more 
I  never  could  exactly  understand,  and  perhaps  you  can 
explain  it  to  me.  In  the  Lord's  prayer  we  ask  Him  not 
to  lead  us  into  temptation;  now,  that  alius'  sounded  to 
me  jist  as  if  He  had  led  somebody  into  temptation,  some- 
time, and  we  kept  bein'  'afeared  He'd  lead  us  there." 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  409 

"As  to  tliat,"  responded  Mrs.  Bradly^  "1  will  say 
that  I  used  to  be  troubled  over  that  sentence  myself,  but 
of  late  years  I  have  come  to  regard  it  as  one  of  the  trans- 
lator's mistakes,  and  I  think  it  should  read,  '  Do  not  per- 
mit us  to  be  led  into  temptation',  or,  'give  us  strength  and 
wisdom  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  shun  temptation,  for  I  do 
not  think,  as  that  really  does  imply,  that  the  good  Father 
ever  led  a  soul  into  temptation,  but  if  they  trust  in  His 
love  and  power  He  will  save  every  one  who  cometh 
unto  Him  with  an  honest  purpose." 

Just  here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the 
return  of  Mr.  Bradly  and  Mr.  Geddiz,  and  the  two  women 
separated  for  the  night,  each  with  new  resolves  to  be 
more  zealous  in  the  work  for  the  Master. 


CHAPTEK  XXXI. 


PEWABIO  REMINISCENCES. 


Having  souglit  and  formed  an  acquaintance  whicli 
was  fast  ripening  into  intimacy  with  Mr.  Ford,  the 
Judge  was  quite  frequently  his  guest,  during  his  stay, 
which  was  somewhat  a  protracted  one,  as  a  number  of 
important  cases  were  up  for  a  hearing  at  this  session,  and 
^hus  he  was  aflForded  an  opportunity  for  cultivating  an 
y-cquaintance  with  Marna.  An  opportunity  which  he 
gladly  embraced,  and  when  at  last  the  court  had  adjourned, 
it  was  understood  by  Mr.  Sanford  and  his  daughter, 
Lina,  that  Mrs.  Ford  and  Marna  were  to  make  their 
home  with  them  during  the  winter,  as  Mr.  Ford  and 
Mr.  Sanford  had,  in  anticipation,  an  extended  prospect- 
ing tour  through  the  Territory.  So  ere  long  the  adobe 
was  closed,  and  they  were  en  route  for  Phoenix,  accom- 
panying Mr.  Ford  thus  far  on  his  journey.  The  change 
was  an  enjoyable  one  for  the  ladies,  as  the  winter  months 
proved  pleasant,  there  was  more  than  usual  gaiety  in 
the  society  of  Phoenix,  and  with  attending  parties  and 
pleasant  little  evening  tete-a-tetes,  together  with  many 
pleasant  drives,  the  time  flew  by  all  too  quickly.  It 
chanced  one  evening  in  the  early  spring  just  prior  to 
their  return  to  Mineral  Park,  as  Marna,  accompanied 
Judge  Austin  in  one  of  his  long  drives  through  the 
country,  and  their  conversation  taking  something  of  a 
theological  turn,  she  learned  that  he  entertained  views 

410 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


41P 


widely  differing  from  her  own  about  many  things,  and 
while  being  new  to  her,  were  not  altogether  objection- 
able, as  her  strange,  eventful  life  had  engendered  many 
doubts,  conflicting  with  her  early  faith. 

"  Marna,"  he  said,  "you  often  speak  of  the  Judgment 
day.  Now  I  regard  that  day  very  differently  from  you, 
perhaps  I  am  a  little  heterodox  in  some  of  my  views,  and 
yet  it  appears  to  me  that  the  Judgment  days — I  use 
the  plural,  for  I  think  there  is  more  tlian  one  such  day — 
are  the  days  of  crisis,  days  when  some  great  sin  or  sor- 
row culminates,  and  when  its  force  is  spent  it  proves  a 
turning  point  in  our  lives,  and  from  the  experience  we 
gather  strength.  The  tares  grow  among  the  wheat,  and 
when  God  comes  with  those  days  of  judgment  or  crisis,  the 
tares  are  separated  out,  and  we  pass  on  to,  perhaps,  a  ^ 
new  and  a  better  life.  And  who  knows  but  what  the 
crisis  of  death,  through  which  we  all  must  pass,  will  be 
one  of  those  days,  and  who  knows,  too,  but  in  tlie  eter- 
nal world  those  days  of  crisis  will  be  continued  with, 
perliaps,  the  change  from  sorrow  to  joy,  and  then  on  to 
still  greater  joys,  and  at  each  change  the  chaff  will,  if 
any  remains,  be  burned  until  we  become  as  pure  as  the 
sinless  angels." 

"  I  like  your  theory,"  said  Marna,  when  he  had  con- 
cluded. "And  yet  there  is  a  part  of  it,  I  am  atraid,  will 
not  hold  good.  The  Bible  tells  us  that  no  sin  shall 
enter  that  eternal  world,  that  all  the  burdens  of  sin  and 
sorrow  are  left  on  this  side  of  the  river  of  death." 

"Well,  that  part,  in  fact  the  most  that  I  have  said  are 
only  my  own  views.  I'm  sure  I  shall  be  only  too  glad 
to  leave  all  my  chaff  on  this  side." 

"Then  you  think,"  continued  Marna,  "that  those 


412  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NFW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

days  of  crisis,  or  sorrow,  are  necessary  for  the  develop- 
ment of  a  grand  life,  either  in  this  or  tlie  other  world, 
and  that  as  a  grain  of  wheat  must  be  buried  before  it 
can  grow,  or  an  organ  be  filled  witli  wind  before  it  can 
give  forth  music,  that  we  must  be  buried  in  sorrow  or 
tossed  about  by  adverse  winds,  'oefore  we  are  ready  for 
the  kingdom  of  the  good." 

''Yes,"  said  the  Judge.  "  I  think  tliat  sorrow  aids 
greatly  in  the  developing  of  grand  lives  for  earth,  and 
surely  a  grand  life  here,  would  continue  its  grandeur  in 
the  life  beyond." 

Marna  sat  in  deep  thought  for  some  time.  She  did 
not  realize  that  her  own  strange,  eventful  life  had  been 
the  impelling  power  that  had  caused  her  to  seek  out  the 
sick  and  sorrowing  and  sacrifice  many  of  her  best  hours, 
and  much  of  her  scanty  means,  for  which  very  many  had 
gone  into  the  great  beyond  with  blessings  for  her  upon 
their  dying  lips,  neither  did  she  realize  that  it  had 
developed  a  character  so  strong,  so  noble  and  self  reliant, 
that  seemingly  nothing  could  daunt,  while  it  left  with  her, 
that  secret,  irresistible  charm  that  drew  hosts  of  friends 
about  her  wherever  she  went,  and  that  with  all  her 
womanly  graces  there  blended  a  magnetic  power,  com- 
manding at  once  the  highest  respect  and  enlisting  the 
sympathies  and  admiration  of  all  with  whom  she  came 
in  contact.    At  length  she  said : 

"  No,  no.  It  is  not  always  thus.  My  own  life  has 
proved  to  me  that  it  is  not  so." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  Judge,  with  an  attempt  at  cheer- 
fulness, "  that  you  have  not  profited  by  your  days  of 
crisis,  or  you  may  never  have  had  any  real  heart  sorrow, 
or  at  least  not  sufficient  to  separate  the  tares  from  the 
wheat  or  burn  up  the  chaftV 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  413 

Here  he  was  checked  from  further  remark  by  seeing 
Marna's  blanched  face  overspread  by  a  look  of  pain  so 
intense  that  it  pierced  his  own  heart,  and  drawing  her 
gently  toward  him  he  craved  a  thousand  pardons  for 
liaving  caused  her  so  much  grief.  His  tender  caressing 
and  words  of  sympathy  melted  her  heart  and  she  wept 
as  she  had  not  done  for  many  months. 

"  I  thought  I  had  grown  strong  and  brave,  and  could 
think  and  speak  of  the  past  without  giving  way  to  my 
feelings,"  she  said,  after  she  had  become  somewhat 
calmed,  but  I  know  you  will  pardon  what  you  may 
deem  woman's  weakness,  when  I  tell  you  all." 

There  had  been  an  engagement  of  marriage  pending 
between  the  two  for  some  time,  and  the  Judge  was 
fondly  hoping  tliat  this  day  she  would  give  him  her 
final  answer,  and  seal  his  hopes  of  bliss.  But  Marnahad 
resolved  not  to  give  her  consent  to  the  union  until  she 
had  made  him  acquainted  with  her  past  history,  for  she 
felt  that  to  him,  as  well  as  to  many  others,  her  heart 
had  been  masked,  and  from  the  eyes  of  the  world  were 
hidden  away  its  most  secret  memories  of  the  past;  and 
he  was  undoubtedly  ignorant  even  of  the  fact  of  her 
having  been  married,  her  more  intimate  friends  calling 
her  Marna,  while  to  strangers  she  was  Miss  Lowe.  She 
dreading  the  explanation  which  must  naturally  follow  a 
correction,  suffered  it  to  remain  so;  and  she  thought 
if  after  hearing  her  history,  he  still  desired  her  hand  in 
marriage,  she  would  not,  could  not  reiuse,  and  yet  she 
greatly  dreaded  the  effect  the  revelation  might  have  in 
his  feelings  toward  her.  And  rather  than  see  that  liis 
love  was  changed  she  would  prefer  leaving  matters  just 
as  they  were  and  go  away  never  to  look  upon  him  again 


414  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

in  life,  with  his  fervent  kiss  warm  upon  her  brow,  and 
his  impassioned  words  ringing  in  her  ear.  But  no,  that 
would  not  be  doing  justice  to  his  long  years  of  devotion, 
or  to  her  own  womanly  instinct  of  right,  and  she  told 
him  all,  beginning  with  the  sickness  and  sad  death  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lewis  as  her  parents.  Of  her  sister 
Mildred's  betrothal,  and  how,  at  her  death,  she  had 
transferred  her  idol  to  her,  and  without  omitting  any 
item  of  interest  in  her  history  even  to  her  struggle  for 
bread,  to  keep  life  in  herself  and  child,  as  her  indepen- 
dent spirit  could  not  brook  the  thought  of  subsisting 
upon  the  charity  of  others.  As  we  have  said  before, 
she  never  went  back  in  her  history  farther  than  the  days 
at  Oak  G?ove,  as  the  little  she  knew  beyond  that  was 
so  indistinct  and  unreal  and  so  sad,  that  memory  was 
loth  to  recall  it,  and  besides  that  Mrs.  Lewis  had  once 
said  it  was  not  necessary  for  her  ev^er  to  speak  of  it, 
as  she  was  her  child,  just  as  truly  as  if  she  had  given 
her  to  the  world. 

By  the  time  the  strange  story  was  ended  she  had 
grown  stronger,  and  she  looked  to  see  if  she  could  read 
her  doom  in  the  dark  eyes  that  never  lor  a  moment  had 
left  her  face,  during  the  recital  of  the  many  strange 
events,  with  which  the  reader  has  already  been  made 
familiar,  but  the  great  tears  filling  those  eyes  and  the 
fondly  spoken  words :  O,  my  darling,  can  it  be  that 
you  have  suffered  thus?"  told  plainly  that  she  was  not 
spurned,  and  pressing  her  tenderly  to  his  breast  he  said: 

'^Marna,  will  you  rest  forever  from  this  great  sorrow 
in  my  love?" 

1  have  received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Merrill,  and  it  is 
quite  as  much  for  Mrs.  Ford  and  yourself  as  for  me,  and 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  415 

you  can  peruse  it  at  your  leisure,  and  answer  it  you 
think  best,"  said  J udge  Austin  on  one  of  his  visits  to 
Mineral  Park  the  following  summer,  "  and  its  corning 
reminds  me  that  I,  too,  have  a  history,  and  although 
not  quite  as  eventful  or  full  of  sorrow  as  your's,  is  never- 
theless a  history,  which  in  justice  to  you  I  must  relate. 
You  will  see  by  this  letter  from  Dr.  Bien,  of  New  York 
City,  that  he  addresses  me  as  his  son,  and  yet  my  name 
is  Austin  and  I  am  known  by  no  other  name  by  any  of 
my  friends  in  the  West,  but  I  consider  it  due  you  that 
I  tell  you  that  as  a  poor  orphan  boy.  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Bien 
took  me  into  their  home." 

And  then  going  briefly  through  his  life,  as  far  as  the 
reader  has  been  made  acquainted  with  it,  he  came  to  the 
time  of  his  returning  from  the  army  with  health  greatly 
impaired  by  months  of  life  in  Libby  Prison — worse  by 
far  than  a  thousand  deaths  on  the  battle  field.  At  the 
suggestion  of  Doctor  Bien  he  accompanied  a  friend  to 
Michigan,  where  he  remained  some  time,  in  hopes  of 
being  benefited  by  the  change,  and  on  his  return,  having 
taken  passage  on  the  Pewabic  in  its  last  trip,  was 
detained  some  time  after  the  wreck  in  Marine  City  by 
illness,  caused  by  becoming  so  thoroughly  chilled  before 
a  boat  from  the  Meteor  came  to  his  rescue,  and  on  his 
return  to  New  York,  Doctor  Bien  had  handed  him  a 
paper  containing  inquiries  concerning  a  family  by  the 
name  of  Austin,  who  left  England  in  18 — ,  following 
which  was  a  description  of  the  family  as  they  were  at 
the  time  of  sailing  for  America.  ''And  when  I  had 
read  it,"  he  said,  ''the  Doctor  informed  me  that  I  was 
the  little  boy,  Charles,  referred  to;  and  then  with  all 
the  tenderness  of  a  father  he  related  to  me  the  cireum- 


416  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

stances,  as  given  him  by  Miss  Caruthers,  and  putting  in 
my  possession  the  papers  left  by  my  mother,  advised 
that  I  make  as  little  delay  as  possible  in  answering  in 
person  the  advertisement;  and  as  he  and  Mrs.  Bien 
were  about  to  visit  his  old  home  in  Scotland,  they  would 
first  accompany  me  to  Manchester  where  the  Doctor 
might  be  of  assistance  to  me  in  establishing  my  claim 
to  the  estate,  which  we  found  was  not  difficult  as  my 
parents  had  taken  every  precaution  necessary  to  that 
end;  and  up  to  that  time  1  had  fully  believed  my  name 
to  be  Thomas  Oaruthers,  and  though  after  going  into 
the  Doctor's  family  I  was  called  Bien  up  to  the  time  of 
my  taking  my  profession,  I  then  felt  that  I  had  no 
farther  claim  upon  the  name,  as  I  was  not  regularly 
adopted  by  them.  So  after  that  I  w^as  known  for  a  time 
again  as  Caruthers,  but  now  I  have  a  legitimate  claim 
upon  the  name  I  bear.  It  was  my  father's  and  mother's 
name.  So  you  see,"  he  continued,  with  a  laugh,  as  he 
rose  to  leave,  "  I  have  a  history  as  well  as  an  abundance 
of  names." 

Marna  smiled  sadly  at  this  remark,  for  she  thought  of 
her  own  "  abundance  of  names."  At  least  she  thought 
of  the  one  more  than  she  had  mentioned  to  him — that 
of  Morris — and,  oh,  how  she  longed  to  know  if  back  of 
that  there  was  not  still  another  one,  upon  which  no  stain 
could  be  found,  that  some  time  she  might  be  able  to  saj^ 
as  he  had  said,  with  pride,  "That  was  my  father's  and 
mother's  name." 

The  letter  referred  to  was  read  by  herself  and  Mrs. 
Ford  as  soon  as  they  were  alone.  It  contained  an  urgent 
request  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ford  and  herself  arrange  to 
return  to  San  Francisco  in  company  with  the  Judge,  in 


A  8TORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


417 


time  to  spend  Thanksgiving  Day  with  them,  as  Doctor 
and  Mrs.  Bien  had  signified  to  tlie  Judge  their  intention 
of  making  him  a  visit  at  that  time,  and  he,  thinking  of 
the  hardships  to  be  endured,  especially  by  elderly  per- 
sons, in  reaching  Arizona,  had,  after  conferring  by  letter 
with  Mrs.  Bradly,  written  them  that  he  would  meet 
them  in  San  Francisco,  and  in  order  to  precede  them  in 
their  arrrival,  as  the  Bradlys  w^ere  strangers  to 'them, 
they  must  start  at  an  early  date.  The  ladies  had  been 
for  some  time  contemplating  an  early  return  for  reasons 
best  known  to  themselves. 

The  second  week  in  September  found  our  little  party 
safely  landed  in  San  Francisco,  no  event  having  occurred 
during  the  trip  worthy  of  note,  and  while  Mrs.  Ford 
was  busily  engaged  in  the  oversight  of  setting  the  house 
in  order,  Marna  was  frequenting  dry  goods  and  millinery 
establishments,  with  an  occasional  day  spent  with  Mrs. 
Clare  or  Mrs.  Bradly,  the  former  having  with  her  hus- 
band, taken  a  great  fancy  to  her  on  account  of  her 
resemblance  to  their  deceased  daughter,  and  had  insisted 
upon  her  making  them  frequent  visits. 

If  Mrs.  Bradly  had  her  suspicions,  regarding  the 
nature  of  affairs  between  the  Judge  and  Marna,  aroused 
by  his  frequent  calls  at  the  home  of  Mr.  Ford,  and  the 
many  rides  out  to  that  beautiful  resort,  the  "  Cliff 
House,''  with  Marna  as  his  constant  companion,  she 
very  wisely  kept  it  to  herself,  and  rejoiced  to  see  that 
the  tinge  of  health  and  buoyancy  of  spirits  had  come  to 
Marna  Lowe.  One  beautiful  day,  while  strolling  on  the 
Beach,  Marna  said  to  the  Judge: 

"  How  often,  as  I  look  out  upon  this  broad  ocean,  a 
chilling  sensation  comes  over  me,  and  I  think  of  that 

27 


418  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

terrible  night  on  Lake  Huron,  and  I  seem  to  hear  again 
those  pleadings:  'Oh!  save  me,  save  me;'  uttered  by 
so  many,  especially  by  Miss  Julia  Eamsey,  of  Tiffin, 
Ohio,  whom  I  had  learned  to  love  very  dearly." 

"  Was  she  really  lost,  or  was  she  not  like  some  others, 
miraculously  saved?" 

"  She  sank  at  my  feet,  and  almost  within  my  grasp," 
said  Marna  sadly,  and  I  learned  afterward  that  some 
Indians  found  her  body,  which  had  floated  out  to  the 
Canada  side,  and  immediately  reporting  the  fact,  a  num- 
ber of  men  came  from  a  neighboring  town  and  brought 
the  body  to  shore,  when  they  found  her  watch  and  chain 
still  upon  her  person,  as  also  some  money  and  a  certifi- 
cate of  deposit  in  her  name  sewed  up  in  her  belt.  They 
advised  her  friends,  who  came  on,  and  took  charge  of 
her  lifeless  remains.  1  was  told  that  she  was  a  grad 
uate  uf  a  medical  college,  and  had  established  quite  a 
reputation  in  the  practice.  We  have  so  few  such  grand 
women,"  she  continued,  "  who  are  willing  to  make  a 
sacrifice  of  their  own  comfort  for  the  good  of  mankind, 
and  face  the  jeering  of  those  who  stand  ready  to  block 
up  every  avenue,  that  woman  may  not  enter,  that  in  my 
way  of  thinking  the  world  can  not  afford  to  lose  even 
one  such.  I  have  always  rejoiced,"  she  continued,  "  that 
Miss  Brush  was  saved,  for  to  her  I  feel  that  I  owe 
my  own  life,  and  well  did  she  earn  on  that  dreadful 
night  the  appellation  that  followed  her  from  early 
womanhood  into  motherhood's  blessed  days,  and  now,  as 
a  diadem,  rests  above  her  cold  brow:  'The  heroine  of 
the  Pewabic'  I  learned  that  quite  recently  she  died  in 
Detroit,  as  Mrs.  Thompson,  leaving  in  the  possession  of 
her  little  daughter,  and  husband,  as  a  memento  of  that 


A  STORY  OF  KEAL  LIFE. 


41» 


night,  the  gold  medal  conferred  upon  her  by  the  life- 
saving  association." 

The  Judge  had  listened  with  rapt  interest  until  Marna 
had  finished,  when  he  said: 

"  About  the  saddest  thing  that  came  within  my 
observation,  was  that  of  a  widow  w^ith  two  little  ones — 
a  boy  of  about  two  years  of  age  and  a  girl  of  about  five. 
She  had  been  very  kind  to  me  during  the  trip,  and  the 
children  were  so  winsome  in  their  innocent  prattling 
that  they  cheered  many  an  otlierwise  lonely  hour  for  me. 
The  mother  and  little  girl  went  down,  and  as  she  had 
been  rather  retiring,  no  one  seemed  to  know  who 
she  was,  or  where  she  belonged.  The  little  boy  had 
been  put  to  bed,  for  when  he  was  picked  up  he  was  in 
his  night  clothes,  he  could  not  give  his  name,  and  all  he 
could  tell,  when  interrogated,  w^as:  That  'papa  and 
Willy  were  laid  in  boxes  and  put  in  the  ground.'  The 
Captain  of  the  Mohawk  took  charge  of  him,  and  said  if 
he  was  not  claimed  that  he  would  take  him  as  his  own. 
Perhaps  you  remember,"  he  continued,  "  the  man  who 
assisted  me  in  helping  you  on  to  the  piece  of  wreck? 
I  had  become  very  much  attached  to  him,  and  he 
appeared  to  take  a  fatherly  interest  in  me.  His  name, 
if  I  remember  correctly,  was  Janes,  of  Akron,  Ohio. 
Well,  after  you  let  yourself  down,  at  the  request  of 
those  throwing  you  the  rope  from  the  Meteor,  he  either 
grew  dizzy,  or  was  so  thoroughly  chilled  that  he  could 
not  keep  his  balance  on  the  shifting  wreck,  that  with  its 
sudden  swaying  he  fell  into  the  dark  waters.  He  was 
quite  well  up  in  years,  and  ratlier  heavily  built,  which 
would  render  him  less  able  to  battle  with  the  floating 
mass  than  a  younger  person,  and  I  saw  him  no  mor©." 


420  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

"  O,  it  is  all  so  sad,  so  very  sad,"  said  Marna,  "  and 
yet  somehow  or  other,  sometimes  I  love  to  think  of  it, 
for  to  me  there  were  some  beautiful  lessons  taught.  I 
have  often  thought  of  a  remark  made  by  a  lady  friend, 
whom  I  knew  as  Miss  Locke,  of  Cleveland.  She  was 
then  the  engineer's  wife,  and  as  we  stood  looking  at  that 
beautiful,  golden  sunset  just  before  the  collision,  she 
sighed,  as  she  stood  with  an  arm  about  my  waist,  and 
said: 

"  'How  glorious  life  would  be  if  we  only  knew  that  its 
setting  sun  would  .be  as  cloudless  and  bright,  as  serene 
and  beautiful  as  the  setting  of  this  sun.' " 

"And  with  this,  she  went  to  join  her  husband,  and  I 
have  since  learned  that  they,  too,  so  lately  starting  out 
on  life's  voyage  together,  ended  that  journey  in  each 
other's  embrace.  She  appeared  so  lovely  that  evening; 
so  full  of  sweet,  sad  thought,  and  as  I  have  thought  of 
her  since,  it  seems  as  if  there  was  a  bright  halo  resting 
upon  her  face  that  was  not  of  earth,  and  I  have  wondered 
if  there  might  not  have  been  the  whisperings  of  angels 
in  her  heart,  telling  her  that  her  life's  sun  was  soon  to 
set,  and  although  I  wished  to  detain  her  longer,  I  am 
glad  now  that  she  was  near  her  heart's  idol  when  the 
last  moment  came,  and  that  they  together  could  sleep 
their  long  dreamless  sleep." 

Many  like  reminiscences  could  have  been  recalled, 
but  the  J udge,  fearing  the  saddening  effect  upon  Mar- 
na's  mind,,  changed  the  theme,  but  all  the  remainder  of 
the  evening  a  sweet,  subdued  feeling  rested  upon  her 
heart,  enhancing  her  loveliness  in  the  eyes  of  her  friends, 
and  perhaps  the  theory  of  the  Judge  was  proving  true 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  421 

In  her  case,  and  that  even  the  recalling  of  the  memories 
of  sorrow,  were  destroying  the  tares,  if  anj  there  remained 
in  her,  seemingly,  pure  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 


THANKSGIVING. 

The  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Bieri  having  arrived  some  days 
before  Thanksgiving  Day,  had  formed  an  acquaintance 
with  Marna,  and  like  many  others,  were  immediately 
captivated  with  her  pleasing  manners,  and  expressed 
themselves  to  each  other  as  entertaining  a  feeling  of 
strange  nearness — a  peculiar  love  for  her  from  their 
first  meeting. 

"  Charles,"  said  the  Doctor  one  evening,  as  the  Judge 
returned  from  escorting  Marna  to  her  home,  "  if  that 
girl  should  take  hold  of  your  old  bachelor  heart,  as  she 
has  on  my  old  tattered  remnants  of  one,  we  might  expect 
to  see  you  leading  a  less  isolated  life.  Come,  my  boy, 
can't  you  mellow  down  enough  to  fall  in  love  with  such 
an  elegant  specimen  of  a  woman  as  she?" 

The  only  reply  the  Judge  made  to  this  friendly  little 
sally,  as  he  lighted  his  cigar  and  went  out  on  the 
veranda,  was: 

"  I  understand  she  is  already  engaged  to  an  English- 
man." 

Thanksgiving  Day  dawned  clear  and  beautiful,  and  by 
two  o'clock,  the  neat  little  parlors  of  the  Bradly  cottage 
were  alive  with  the  hum  of  voices.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clare 
were  present;  Mrs.  Merrill,  had  overcome  her  preju- 
dices sufficiently  to  have  met  her  on  several  occasions, 
by  the  great  kindness  shown  her  by  Mrs.  Clare,  during 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  423 

her  severe  illness;  Rev.  Montrose  and  wife, he  being  Mrs. 
Bradly's  pastor,  with  a  few  other  intimate  friends,  the 
most  of  whom  were  far  down  on  the  shady  side  of  life's 
slope.  And  when  the  shrill  ring  of  the  bell  announced 
the  time  for  repairing  to  the  dining-room,  Mrs.  Bradly, 
throwing  open  the  wide  doors,  said  in  her  usual  mirth- 
ful  manner: 

Now,  gentleman,  select  your  ladies,  and  we  will 
dine." 

Doctor  Bien,  with  something  of  the  gallantry  of  his 
youth  returning,  sprang  to  the  side  of  Miss  Lowe,  and 
giving  his  arm  to  her,  said: 

Charles,  you  have  my  free  and  full  permission  to 
escort  your  mother  to  dinner." 

For  an  instant  only,  this  little  piece  of  the  Doctor's 
gallantry  caused  some  embarrassment  on  the  part  of  the 
Judge  and  Marna,  which,  however,  was  easily  overcome, 
as  in  taking  their  places  at  the  table  Marna  w^as  placed 
next  to,  and  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  Judge.  The 
reader  can  better  imagine  than  we  can  describe,  the  sur- 
prise of  all  present,  excepting  Mi's.  Bradly,  Mrs.  Ford 
and  the  parties  concerned,  when  the  Rev.  Montrose  left 
his  place  and  going  near  the  Judge  and  Marna,  said: 

Friends,  please  remain  standing  for  a  moment,"  and 
he  at  once  proceeded  wdth  the  ceremony,  which  made 
Marna  Lowe  and  Charles  Austin,  husband  and  wife. 

We  will  leave  the  reader  to  look  in  imagination 
upon  the  mirthfulness  of  the  hour  following  this  sur- 
prise,  where  rheumatic  limbs,  grey  hairs,  dimmed  eyes, 
and  wrinkled  brows,  were  all  forgotten,  and  while  thus 
engaged  we  will  turn  the  key  of  the  casket  wherein  lies 
the  long  hidden  "  pandore  "  of  Marna's  young  life.  Th^ 


424  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

gaiety  of  the  day  merged  gradually  into  more  sober, 
thoughtful  conversation.  The  most  of  the  guests  having 
left  at  an  early  hour,  Dr.  Bien  meanwhile  seeming  too 
deeply  interested  in  an  article  in  a  late  paper,  to  give 
his  attention  to  aught  else  and  v^hen  he  had  finished  the 
reading  he  said: 

"  I  have  been  greatly  interested  in  an  article  contain- 
ing an  account  of  the  kidnapping  of  that  little  boy, 
Charlie  Ross,  differing  from  any  that  I  have  seen  before 
and  it  brings  forcibly  to  my  mind,  an  incident  of  the 
same  kind  that  occurred  many  years  ago  in  my  own 
city,  and  I  might  say  almost  m  my  own  family,  for  I 
was  deeply  interested  in  the  affair,  as  was  also  Charles, 
then  but  a  mere  boy,  and  my  present  wife,  who  was  at 
that  time  unmarried,'^  and  then  with  the  pathos  of  his 
Scotch  nature  and  the  tears  often  coursing  down  his 
furrowed  cheek,  he  told  of  the  loss  of  little  Nellie  Clare. 

With  glaring  eyes,  bated  breath  and  quick,  pulsating 
heart,  Mrs.  Bradly  listened  to  what  was  to  her  as  an 
unforgotten  dream  of  the  long,  long  ago,  and  ere  the 
Doctor  was  fairly  through  with  the  narrative,  she  flew 
to  his  side,  and  clasping  his  hands  in  her  own  cold  ones, 
from  which  the  life-blood  seemed  to  have  receded,  she 
said : 

"  Doctor  Bien,  I  am  she  that  was  Minnie  Merrill,  the 
one  who  adopted  Nellie  Clare." 

Well,  then,"  said  the  Doctor,  as  soon  as  his  emotions 
would  permit  of  his  speaking,  "  do  you  not  recognize 
in  Mrs.  Bien  she  that  was  Jane  Coil,  and  in  Judge 
Austin,  the  little  boy,  Tommie  Caruthers?" 

The  embraces,  hand-shaking  and  tears  which  followed 
these  revelations,  prevented  them  frjam  observing  Mr. 


^^I  UNDERSTAND  SIIK  IS  ALREADY  ENGAGED  TO  AN  ENGLISHMAN.'' 

See  page  422. 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE. 


425 


and  Mrs.  Clare,  who  were  to  all  appearance  as  cold  and 
rigid  as  marble.  There  were,  however,  one  pair  of  eyes 
fixed  upon  them,  and  striving  with  all  the  power  that 
mortal  eyes  could  command,  to  pierce  their  way  far 
enough  down  into  their  hearts  to  read  the  thoughts  that 
were  buried  there.  But  Mrs.  Merrill  was  obliged  to  give 
up  the  attempt,  Mrs.  Bradly  calling  her  to  testify  to 
the  fact  that  Nellie  was  her. cousin,  as  was  found  on 
examining  the  articles  found  in  her  trunk.  There  was 
a  dress  which  she  had  made  for  her  sister,  as  also  the 
picture  of  her  sister  with  that  of  a  man,  supposed  to  be 
her  husband,  and  of  twin  babes,  in  a  double  locket. 
During  all  this,  Marna  was  to  all  appearance,  like  as  the 
Clares,  a  disinterested  listener,  and  also  like  them,  she 
had  strange,  wild  thoughts  struggling  into  life,  down  so 
deep  that  no  eye  could  read  them.  The  little  hair  trunk 
was  soon  the  center  of  attraction.  As  Mrs.  Bradly  raised 
the  lid,  she  said: 

''Miss  Lowe.  Oh!  excuse  me  Mrs.  Austin,  as  you 
are  the  least  agitated,  will  you  please  lift  out  those 
things  until  you  find  the  locket?" 

Marna,  kneeling  beside  the  trunk,  lifted  out  with  a 
trembling  hand  one  article  after  another,  passing  them 
to  Mrs.  Bradly,  who  handed  them  directly  to  Mrs.  Bien, 
whose  tears  flowed  afresh  as  she  looked  again,  after  so 
many  years,  upon  these  relics  of  the  dead,  and  when  the 
faces  in  the  locket  had  been  looked  upon  and  wept  over, 
Mrs.  Bradly  handed  it  to  Marna,  telling  her  to  look  at 
it  ;  that  moment  her  face  blanched,  and  then  with- 
out lifting  her  eyes,  she,  with  one  hand,  drew  from 
her  bosom  a  similar  locket,  which  was  suspended  under 
her  clothing  by  a  silver  cord,  and  touching  a  spring  it 


426  A  DARK  PLOtIn'  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

flew  open,  and  gazing  for  an  instant,  first  upon  one  and 
then  upon  the  other,  when  thev  both  fell  from  her  hands, 
and  she  gasped  as  she  fell  fainting  into  the  extended 
arms  of  her  husband:    "  Oh,  my  mother! 

Mrs.  Clare,  with  a  nervous  twitch,  seized  the  pictures 
as  they  fell  from  Marna's  hand,  and  as  she  and  her  lius- 
band  looked  upon  the  face  of  their  dead  son — the  one 
they  had  so  cruelly  banished,  and  who,  years  ago,  had 
ended  his  own  existence  in  that  very  room,  their  grief 
was  uncontrollable.  Clasping  the  hands  of  Marna  and 
the  Judge,  they  pledged  the  remainder  of  life's  devo- 
tions to  their  happiness,  saying:  Henceforth  you  shall 
be  to  us  as  .^^on  and  daughtery 

For  a  long  time,  Mrs.  Bradly  sat  with  arms  clasped 
about  Marna,  murmuring:  '^O,  my  Nellie,  my  long  lost 
child;  am  I  dreaming,  or  is  this  really  true?"  While 
Judge  Austin  paused  often,  in  his  walking  back  and 
forth  through  the  room,  to  fondly  stroke  her  hair  ancj 
imprint  a  kiss  upon  her  forehead.  At  last,  turning  to 
Mrs.  Bien,  he  repeated  to  her  his  words  of  long  ago:  : 
Sometime^  somewhere^  I  shall  find  my  lost  Nellie, 
Thank  God,  that  the  sometime  has  come  at  last." 

During  all  this  time,  Mr.  Geddiz,  too,  was  walking 
nervously  back  and  forth  across  the  room  with  his  hands 
folded  under  the  long  skirts  of  his  broadcloth  coat,  which 
had  done  for  him  church  and  funeral  service  for  many 
years,  stopping  ever  and  anon  in  his  walk  to  look  upon 
the  face  of  the  one  that  had  been  lost  to  them  for  so 
many  years,  and  at  every  pause  saying  half  aloud: 

"  Well,  well.  Truly  God's  ways  are  very  myster- 
iouSo"  Then  resuming  his  walk  w^ould  continue,  "  but 
I  s'pose  we'll  just  have  to  take  Him  as  He  is,"  while  Mrs. 

1^ 


f 


A  STORY  OF  REAL  LIFE.  427 

Oeddiz  was  profuse  in  ejaculations,  such  as:  "  Didn't  I 
tell  you  so,  Father?  I  know'd  all  the  time  that  I  should 
see  her  ag'in  before  I  got  to  heaven,"  and  then  turning 
to  Mrs.  Bradly  she  said:  ''I  always  know'd  ever  since  I 
was  a  child,  that  the  darkest  hour  of  the  hull  night  was 
the  one  jist  before  the  day  broke,  and  you  know  how 
much  we  have  been  talkin'  about  that  child  lately,  and 
how  much  we  have  prayed  that  the  Lord  would  send 
her  to  your  arms  ag'in,  and  just  see,  there  she  is,  right 
where  you  asked  Him  to  put  her.  I  have  learned  a 
lesson  of  faith,"  she  continued,  turning  to  Doctor  Bien, 

this  blessed  woman  has  learned  me  how  to  pray,  I 
never  thought  in  all  my  prayin'  to  ask  for  her  to  be  sent 
back  to  us.  I  tliought  if  the  Lord  wanted  her  to  come 
back,  He  would  fetch  her  of  His  own  accord,  but  I  did 
ask  Him  to  take  care  of  her  and  k^ap  her  good  and  inno- 
cent like,  but  Mrs.  Bradly  says  she  prays  for  every  thing 
she  wants  and  her  prayers  are  most  always  answered, 
and  I'm  going  to  do  that  way  myself  after  this,  but  now 
as  ihe  child  is  Bafe  w^ith  us  ag'in  we  or'ter  try  to  forjgi'.e 
poor  Cristine,  and  let  by-gones  be  by-gones,  and  we 
don't  know  but  ma'be  the  good  Lord  had  som^.  wise 
design  in  all  this,  for  as  Father  says,  '  His  ways  Are  very 
mysterious,'  and  I  begin  to  think  they  are  clep 21  past  our 
finding  out,  and  there  is  no  use  in  us  poo^  mortals  med- 
dlin'  with  His  affairs." 

Meanwhile,  a  mist  was  clearing  av^ay  from  Marna  s 
mind,  and  like  a  long  forgotten  d^-eain  there  came  an 
indistinct  vision  of  an  humble  room,  a  coffin,  a  little 
boy,  a  kind  woman,  and  then  a  stately  mansion,  and  a 
sweet  face.  The  later  hours  of  that  night  found  a  sub- 
dued silence  perv^id^Tig       hearts  which  had  been  stirred 


428  A  DARK  PLOT  IN  NEW  YORK  SOCIETY; 

to  their  very  depths  with  joy,  for  it  had  been  to  them, 
in  every  sense  of  the  word,  a  Thanksgiving  Day,  "  for 
which,"  said  Doctor  Bien,  ^'let  us  give  thanks  to  the 
Father  of  all  mercies  for  His  tender  care  and  guiding 
hand,  which  has  brought  us  to  see  this  blessed  hour," 
and  together  they  bowed  in  prayer. 

And  now,  if  the  reader  will  go  with  me  this  bright 
autumnal  eve  to  Phcenix,  and  out  on  the  summit  of  a 
gentle  slope  overlooking  the  city,  where  a  palatial  home 
looms  up  above  the  bright  hued  foliage  and  fragrant 
flowers,  and  look  upon  three  bright,  happy  faces  that 
are  radiant  wdth  contentment  and  joy,  they  will  see  Mrs. 
Ford,  who  in  her  husband's  absence  is  a  guest  there, 
and  Judge  Austin  and  Nellie  Clare  as  Mrs.  Austin. 

The  Iris  of  hope  has  risen  once  more, 

A  wearisome  journey  is  past; 
The  dove  finds  peace,  the  tempest  is  o'er, 

It  rests  in  love's  ark-home  at  last. 

THE  END. 


TEACHING  THE  DEAF  TO 
SPEAK. 


The  Teeth  the  Best  Medium  and  \  he  Audiphone  t\{% 
Best  Instrument  for  ConveyiNv;  Sounds  to 
tpe  Deaf,  and  in  Teaching  the  Partly 
Deaf  and  Dumb  to  Speak. 


Address  Deliverkh  by  R.  S.  Rhodes,  of 
Chicago,  Before  th^  Fourteenth  Convention 
OF  American  Teachers  of  the  Deaf,  at 
Fli^t,  Michigan. 


Mr.  President  and  Ladies  and  Gentlemen: 

I  would  like  to  reiute  some  of  the  causes  which  led  to 
my  presence  with  you  to-day. 

About  sixteen  y^ars  ago  I  devised  this  instrument,  the 
audiphone,  which  greatly  assisted  me  in  hearing,  and 
discovered  that  many  who  had  not  learned  to  speak  were 
not  so  deaf  as  myself.  I  reasoned  that  an  instrument  in 
the  hands  of  one  who  had  not  learned  to  speak  would 
act  the  same  as  when  in  the  hands  of  one  who  had 
learned  to  speuk,  and  that  the  mere  fact  of  one  not  being 
able  to  speak  would  in  no  wise  affect  the  action  of  the 
instrument.  To  ascertain  if  or  not  my  simple  reasoning 
was  correct,  I  borrowed  a  deaf-mute,  a  boy  about  twelve 
year«  old,  and  took  him  to  my  farm.  We  arrived  there 
ill  tbt  ^yenini;,  and  during  the  tvening  I  experimented  to 


li  h%  could  distinguish  some  of  the  vowel  sounds.  My 

experiments  in  this  direction  were  quite  satisfactory, 
Early  in  the  morning  I  provided  him  with  an  audiphone 
and  took  him  by  the  hand  for  a  walk  about  the  farm. 
We  soon  came  across  a  flock  of  turkeys.  We  approached 
closely,  the  boy  with  his  audiphoue  adjusted  to  his  teeth, 
and  when  the  gobbler  spoke  in  his  peculiar  voice,  the  boy 
was  convulsed  with  laughter,  and  jumping  for  joy  con- 
tinued to  follow  the  fowl  with  his  audiphone  properly 
adjusted,  and  at  every  remark  of  the  gobbler  the  boy  was 
delighteci.  I  was  myself  delighted,  and  beg£.n  to  think 
my  reasoning  was  correct. 

We  next  visited  the  barn.  I  led  him  into  a  stall  beside 
a  horse  munching  his  oats,  and  to  my  delight  he  could 
hear  the  grinding  of  the  horse's  teeth  when  the  audiphone 
was  adjusted,  and  neither  of  us  could  without.  In  the 
stable  yard  was  a  cow  lowing  for  its  calf,  which  he  plainly 
showed  he  could  hear,  and  when  I  led  him  to  the  cow- 
barn  where  the  calf  was  confined,  he  could  hear  it  reply 
to  the  cow,  and  by  signs  showed  that  he  understood  their 
language,  and  that  he  knew  the  one  was  calling  for  the 
other.  We  then  visited  the  pig-sty  where  the  porkers 
poked  their  noses  near  to  us.  He  could  hear  them  with 
the  audiphone  adjusted,  and  enjoyed  their  talk,  and 
understood  that  they  wanted  more  to  eat.  I  gave  him 
some  corn  to  throw  over  to  them,  and  he  signed  that  that 
was  what  they  wanted,  and  that  now  they  were  satisfied* 
He  soon,  however,  broke  away  from  me  and  pursued  the 
gobbler  and  manifested  more  satisfaction  in  listening  to 
its  voice  than  to  mine,  and  the  vowel  sounds  as  com- 
pared  to  it  were  of  slight  importance  to  him»  and  for  the 
fchree  days  he  w||^at  mjr  tzxm  tkat  |KMr  tmskfCff  fobUet 
bnt  MMte  mm  ^ 


With  these  and  other  experfments  I  WM  satisfied  thai 

he  could  hear,  and  that  there  were  many  Hke  him;  so  I 
look  my  grip  and  audiphones  and  visited  most  of  the 
institutions  for  the  deaf  in  this  country.  In  all  institu- 
tions I  found  many  who  could  hear  well,  and  presented 
the  instrument  with  which  this  hearing  could  be  improved 
and  brought  within  the  scope  of  the  human  voice.  But 
at  one  institution  I  was  astonished;  I  found  a  bright  girl 
with  perfect  hearing  being  educated  to  the  sign  language. 
She  could  repeat  words  after  me  parrot-like,  but  had  no 
knowledge  of  their  value  in  sentences.  I  inquired  why 
Bhe  was  in  the  institution  for  the  deaf,  and  by  examining 
the  records  we  learned  she  was  the  child  of  deaf-mute 
parents,  and  had  been  brought  up  by  them  in  the  country, 
and  although  her  hearing  was  perfect,  she  had  not  heard 
Bpoken  language  enough  to  acquire  it,  and  I  was  informed 
by  the  superintendent  of  the  institution  that  she  pre- 
ferred signs  to  speech.  I  was  astonished  that  a  child 
with  no  knowledge  of  the  value  of  speech  should  be  per- 
mitted to  elect  to  be  educated  by  signs  instead  of  speech, 
and  to  be  so  educated  in  a  slate  institution.  This  cir- 
cumstance convinced  me  more  than  ever  that  there  waa 
a  great  work  to  be  done  in  redeeming  the  partly  deaf 
children  from  the  slavery  of  silence,  and  I  was  more 
firmly  resolved  than  ever  that  I  would  devote  the  re* 
mainder  of  my  life  to  this  cause. 

I  have  had  learned  scientists  tell  me  that  I  could  not 
hear  through  my  teeth.  It  would  take  more  scientists 
than  ever  were  born  to  convince  me  that  I  did  not  hear 
Ay  samted  mother's  and  beloved  father's  dying  voice 
with  this  instrument,  when  I  could  not  have  beard  it 


It  would  take  more  scientists  than  ever  were  bom  W 

i  onvince  me  that  I  did  not  hear  the  voice  of  the  Rev. 
JIames  B.  McClure,  one  who  has  been  dear  to  me  for  the 
last  twenty  years,  and  accompanied  me  on  most  of  my 
visits  to  institutions  spoken  of  above,  and  who  has  en- 
couraged  me  in  my  labors  for  the  deaf  all  these  years,  say, 
as  I  held  his  hand  on  his  dying  bed  only  Monday  last, 
and  took  my  final  leave  from  him  (and  let  me  say,  I 
know  of  no  cause  but  this  that  would  have  induced  me 
to  leave  him  then),  Go  to  Flint;  do  all  the  good  you 
can.  God  bless  your  labors  for  the  deaf!  We  shall 
never  meet  again  on  earth.   Meet  me  above.  Good-by!" 

And,  Mr.  President,  when  I  am  laid  at  rest,  it  will  be 
with  gratitude  to  you  and  with  greater  resignation  for  the 
active  part  you  have  taken  in  the  interest  of  these  partly 
deaf  children  in  having  a  section  for  aural  work  admitted 
to  this  national  convention,  for  in  this  act  you  have  con- 
tributed to  placing  this  work  on  a  firm  foundation,  whick 
is  sure  to  result  in  the  greatest  good  to  this  class. 

You  have  heard  our  friend,  the  inventor  of  the  tele- 
phone, say  that  in  his  experiments  for  a  device  to  im- 
prove the  hearing  of  the  deaf,  (as  he  was  not  qualified 
by  deafness,)  he  did  not  succeed,  but  invented  the  tele- 
phone instead,  which  has  lined  his  pocket  with  gold. 
From  what  I  know  of  the  gentleman,  I  believe  he  would 
willingly  part  with  all  the  gold  he  has  received  for  the 
use  of  this  wonderful  invention,  had  he  succeeded  in  his 
efforts  in  devising  an  instrument  which  would  have 
emancipated  even  twenty  per  cent,  of  the  deaf  in  the  in- 
stitutions from  the  slavery  of  silence.  I  have  often 
mshed  that  he  might  have  invented  the  audiphone  aa4 


mAlING  THROUGH  THB  TBBm 

reciived  as  much  benefit  by  its  use  as  I,  for  then  he 

would  have  used  the  gold  he  derives  from  the  telephone 
in  carrying  the  boon  to  the  deaf;  but  when  I  consider 
that  in  wishing  this  I  must  wish  him  deaf,  and  as  it  would 
not  be  right  for  me  to  wish  him  this  great  affliction,  there- 
fore since  I  am  deaf,  and  I  invented  the  audiphone,  I 
would  rather  wish  that  I  might  have  invented  the  tele- 
phone also;  in  which  case  I  assure  the  deaf  that  I  would 
have  used  my  gold  as  freely  in  their  behalf  as  would  he. 
[The  speaker  then  explained  the  use  of  the  audiometel 
in  measuring  the  degree  of  hearing  one  may  possess. 
Then,  at  his  request,  a  gentleman  from  the  audience,  a 
superintendent  of  one  of  our  large  institutions,  took  a 
position  about  five  feet  from  the  speaker,  and  was  asked 
to  speak  loud  enough  for  Mr.  Rhodes  to  hear  when  he  did 
not  have  the  audiphone  in  use,  and  by  shouting  at  the  top 
of  his  voice,  Mr.  Rhodes  was  able  to  hear  only  two  or 
three  **o"  sounds,  but  could  not  distinguish  a  word. 
With  the  audiphone  adjusted  to  his  teeth,  still  looking 
away  from  the  speaker,  he  was  able  to  understand  ordShary 
tones,  and  repeated  sentences  after  him;  and,  when  look- 
ing at  him  and  using  his  eye  and  audiphone,  the  speaker 
lowering  his  voice  nearly  as  much  as  possible  and 
yet  articulating,  Mr.  Rhodes  distinctly  heard  every 
word  and  repeated  sentences  after  him,  thus  showing  the 
value  of  the  audiphone'and  eye  combined,  although  Mr. 
Rhodes  had  never  received  instructions  in  lip  reading. 
The  gentleman  stated  that  he  had  tested  Mr.  Rhodes' 
hearing  with  the  audiometer  when  he  was  at  his  institu- 
tion  in  1894,  and  found  he  possessed  seven  per  cent,  ic 
Ilia  Itft  aar  and  nothing  in  his  right.] 


FOK  THE  DEAF 


THE  AUDIPHONE 

An  Instrument  that  Enables  Deaf  Persons  to 
Hear  Ordinary  Conversation  Readily  through 
the  Medium  of  the  Teeth,  and  Many  of  those 
Born  Deaf  aiid  Dumb  to  Hear  and  Learn  to 
Speak. 

INVENTED  BY  RICHARD  S.  RHODES,  CHICAGO. 

MEDAL  AWARDED  AT  THE  WORLD'S  COL. 
UMBIAN  EXPOSITION,  CHICAGO. 

The  Audiphone  is  a  new  instrument  made  of  a  peculiar  composition, 
possessing  the  property  of  gathering  the  faintest  sour. ds  (somewhat  similar 
to  a  tel  ph  'Tie  diaphragm'',  and  conveying  them  to  the  auditory  nerve, 
through  the  medium  of  the  teeth.  T/ie  external  e(£r  has  nothing  what- 
ever to  do  in  heai'ing  with  this  wonderful  instrument. 

Thousands  are  in  use  by  those  who  would  not  do  without  them  for 
any  consideration.  It  has  enabled  doctors  and  lawyers  to  resume  practicet 
teachers  to  resume  teaching,  mothers  to  he&,r  the  voices  of  their  children, 
thousands  to  hear  their  minister,  attend  concerts  and  theatres,  ando-ngage 
in  general  conversation.  Music  is  heard  perfectly  with  it  when  without  it 
not  a  note  could  e  distinguished.  It  is  convenient  to  carry  and  to  use. 
Ordinary  conversation  can  be  heard  with  ease.  In  most  cases  deafness 
is  not  detected. 

Full  instructions  will  be  sent  with  each  instrument.  The  Audiphone 
is  patented  throughout  the  civilized  world, 

PRICE 

Conversational,  small  size^        »       »  «       .  $3.00 

Conversational,  medium  size,        -       -  •  3.00 

Concert  size    -        -       -       -       *  -  50a 

Trial  instruments,  good  and  serviceable,  *       »  I.50 

The  Audiphone  will  be  sent  to  any  address^ 
on  receipt  of  price,  by 

RHODES  (£  M'CLURE  PUB  CO. 

AGENTS  FOR  THE  WORLD. 

CHICAGO.  ILL. 


RHODSS  &  McCLURE  PVBUftEIKG  G<X» 

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WILD  LIFE  IN  THE  FAR  WEST.  By  C.  H.  Simpson,  a  resident 
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A YANKEE'S  ADVENTURES  IN  SOUTH  AFRICA.  (In  the  dia- 
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adventures,  dangers  and  narrow  escapes  of  a  Yankee  seeking  hi^ 
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em  times.  Illustrated  with  75  full-page  engravin 
by  H.  DeLay f  and  contains  reading  matter  407  pag  5S. 


BENONI  AND  SERAPTA  A  Story  of  the  Time  of  the  Great  C< 
stantine,  Founder  of  the  Christian  Faith.  By  Douglas  Vernon, 
religious  novel  showing  a  Parsee's  constancy  and  faith  throu  ;h 
many  persecutions,  trials  and  difficulties,  placed  in  his  way  by  pries  ts, 
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feeliags  a&d  ^scrupulous  intrigues  of  those  professing  religion  at  I  be 
time  ol  HiA  ipoctdatioii  of  ftitus  Christian  faith.    UIusy?at«i  with  IS  nil 


EVILS  OF  THE  CITIES:  By  T.  DeWitt  Talmage,  D.  D.;  5|opafM. 
The  author,  in  company  with  the  proper  detective*,  viiited  many  d 
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BIBLE  CHARACTERS.  A  collection  of  Sermons  by 
the  most  renowned  divines  of  their  times  on  these 
subjects.  A  beautiful  and  inspiring  book,  that  ought 
to  find  its  place  into  every  home  where  good  and 
elevating  literature  is  sought  after.  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  Dr.  Taimage,  Josepn  Parker.  Dr.  Guthrie, 
etc.  32  full-page  illustrations  from  the  famous  paint- 
ings by  Gustave  Dore.    894  pages. 

GLIMPSES  OF  HOOSIERBOM.  A  selection  of  Humorous  and 
Pathetic  Poems,  which,  together,  give  a  most  vivid  and  delightful 
description  of  the  life,  the  thinking  and  feelings  of  the  farmer  of 
Indiana.  The  Poems  are  truly  original,  and  show  that  the  author  is  a 
r.:sident  of  the  State  he  sings  about,  and  has  lived  through  most  of  the 
incidents  he  depicts  in  a  trulj?  fascinating  way.  Copiously  illustrated. 
Deamor  R.  Drake.    268  pages. 

^^^Z^^^  pLOTS   AND  PENALTIES.     A  selection  of 
'r^9  Political  stories,  taken  from  life,  and  told  by 

V/.  H.  Hinrichsen,  "Buck,"  a  man  who  held 
the  position  of  Secretary  of  State  of  Illinois. 
These  stories  do  not  give  a  one-sided  view  of 
the  Comedies  and  Tragedies  that  occur  in 
Politics  but   wilt  prove  of  value  and  highest 
interest  to  the  Democrat  and  Republican 
alike.    True  Humor  and  deepest  Pathos  go 
here  hand  in  hand,  and  the  book,  once  opened, 
will  be  rarely  laid  aside  without  that  feeling  of  true  satisfaction  that 
comes  after  the  perusal  of  literature,  based  on  real  life,  and  built  by 
genius.    Copiously  illustrated.    458  pages. 

THE  PIONEER'S  HOARD.  A  Thrillng  Ro- 
mance of  the  Oz^rks  by  Scott  Van  Gorden. 
A  vivid,  graphic  tale  of  the  reign  of  the  Out- 
laws in  those  Mountains  of  the  West,  and 
their  downfall  and  final  extermination  by  the 
Regulators.  Combat  and  Bloodshed,  Indian 
warwhoops,  and  wild,  dark  night  scenes  blend 
most  luckily  with  courtship  and  love-making, 
and  offer  a  story  to  lovers  of  sensational  litera- 
ture that  will  bold  them  spall  hon^  Irom  beginning  to  end.  Illustrated 
with  twenty-three  full  ^ageonj^vVvigy  J)y       S.  De  Lay.    530  pages. 


•1 


^SAM  JONES'  GOSPEL  SERMONS:      346  pa^ea^ 
exclusive  of  engravings.    Sam  Jones  is  pronounced 

•'one  of  the  most  sensational  preachers  in  the  world, 
and  yet  among  the  most  effective."  His  sermons  are 
characterized  by  clearness,  point  and  great  common 
sense,  including  "hits"  that  ring  like  guns.  Printed 
in  large  type,  and  illustrated  wHh  engravings  of  Sam 
Jones  and  Sam  Small,  and  with  nineteen  full-page 
engravings  from  Gustave  Dore. 

SAM  JONES'  LATEST  SERMONS.  The  favor  with  which  Sam 
Jones'  Gospel  Sermons  has  been  received  by  the  public  has  induced 
us  to  issue  this  book  of  his  Latest  Sermons.  Each  sermon  is  illustrated 
with  a  full-page  illustration  from  Gustave  Dore's  Bible  Gallery.  The 
book  is  bound  unifoimly  with  his  Gospel  Sermons,  and  contains,  besidet 
illustrations,  reading  matter  of  350  pages. 

SAM  JONES'  ANECDOTES;  300  pages.  An  exceedingly  interesting 
and  entertaining  volume,  containing  the  many  telling  and  effective 
stories  told  by  Mr.  Jones  in  his  sermons.  They  strike  in  all  directions 
and  always  impart  good  moral  lessons  that  can  not  be  misunderstood. 
Adapted  for  the  young  and  old.    A  book  which  everybody  can  enjoy. 

MISTAKES  OF  INGERSOLL;  and  his  Answers 
complete;  newly  revised  popular  (1897)  edition; 
illustrated,  482  pages.  Containing  the  full 
replies  of  Prof.  Swing,  Judge  Black,  J.  Munro 
Gibson,  D.  D.,  Chaplain  q  McCabe,  Bishop 
Cheney,  Dr.  Thomas,  Dr.  Maclauglan,  Dr. 
Goodwin  and  other  eminent  scholars  to  Inger. 

  soil's  Lectures  on  the  "Mistakes  of  Moses, 

'What  Shall  We  Do  to  be  Saved?"  and  "  Thomas  Paine," 
to  which  are  appended  in  full  these  Ingersoll  lectures  and  his  replies  A' 
fair  presentation  of  the  full  discussion. 

GREAT  SPEECHES  OF  COL.  R.  G.  INGERSOLL;  complete; 
newly  revised  (1897)  edition;  409  pages.  Containing  the  many 
eloquent,  timely,  practical  speeches  of  this  most  gifted  orator  and  states- 
man, including  his  recent  matchless  "Eulogy  on  Abraham  Lincoln," 
'•Speech  on  the  Declaration  of  Independence,"  "To  the  Farmers  on 
Farming,"  Funeral  Oration  at  his  Brother's  Grave,  etc.,  etc.  Fully 
and  handsomely  illustrated. 

WIT,  WISDOM  AND  ELOQUENCE  OF  COL.  R.  G.  INGERSOLL; 
newly  revised  popular  (1897)  edition,  illustrated;  336  pages.  Con- 
taining the  remarkable  Witticisms,  terse,  pungent  and  sarcastic  sayings, 
and  eloquent  extracts  on  popular  themes,  from  Ingersoll's  Speeches;  a 
very  entertaining  volume. 

THE  FIRST  MORTGAGE;  310  pages.  A  truthful,  instructive,  pleas- 
ing and  poetical  presentation  of  Biblical  stories,  history  and  gospel 
truth;  fully  and  handsomely  illustrated  from  the  world-renowned  artist, 
Qustave  Dore,  by  E,  Cookp  the  whole  forming  an  eKceedingiy  int«r- 
aeti&i  and  eatertainiaf  ooetieal  Bible.    Om  id  tb«  liqaid>wP8et  ^vtmrnm 


A  TEN  DOLLAR 
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The  Original  Webster's  Um/oridged  Dictionary 
Thoroughly  Revised  and  Greatly  Enlarged  arid  Improved 


By  CHAUNCEY  A.  GOODRICH,  D,  D.,md  NOAH  PORTER,  D.  D.,L.  D. 


pTH  an  Appendix  of 
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They  are  idols  of  home  and  of  house- 
holds; 

They  are  Angels  of  God  in  disguise. 
His  sunlight  sleeps  in  their  tresses; 
His  glory  still  gleams  in  their  eyes. 


STORIES  FOR  THE  LITTLE  ONES 
AT  HOME.  320  pages.  "This  hand- 
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able  to  tell  what  is  good  for  the  instruc- 
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A  Mother.  Many  of  the  rhymes  are 
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the  little  ones  at  home. 


GEMS   OF   POETRY.    407  pages.    Finely  illustrated.    Contains  a 
very  choice  and  varied  selection  of  our  most  popular,  beautiful  and 
time-honored  poems,  written  by  the  poets  of  all  ages  and  climes. 
A  magnificent  gift  book  for  a  friend;  a  splendid  book  for  the  holidays; 
appropriate  for  a  birthday  or  wedding  present;  a  fine  center  table  book, 
interesting  to  all. 

KIDNAPPED;  OR,  SECRETS  OF  A  GREAT  MYSTERY.  By 
A.  Stewart  Manly.    Illustrated  by  H.  S.  De  Lay.    428  pages. 

SOCIAL  KNOTS  UNTIED.  A  Series  of  Practical  and  Popular 
Sermons  delivered  by  T.  De  Witt  Taimage,  D.  D.  Handsomely 
illustrated.    475  pages. 

LUCKY  TEN    BAR   OF   PARAD'SE  VALLEY.    His  humorous, 
pathetic  and  tragic  adventures.    Copiously  illustrated  by  H.  S 
De  Lay.    His  travels  by  reproductions  from  photographs,  consti- 
tuting almost  a  Pictorial  America.    By  C.  M.  Stevens.    600  pages. 

PEARLS  FROM  MANY  SEAS.  A 
collection  of  the  best  thought.*:  of 
four  hundred  writers  of  wide  repute. 
Selected  and  classified  by  Rev.  J.  B. 
McClure.  Illustrated  with  51  full 
page  engravings  selected  especially  for 
this  work  from  the  great  art  galleries 
of  the  world.  A  volume  of  rare 
value  and  interest  to  all  lovers  of  good 
literature.  Reading  matter  528  pages. 


A  TEN  DOLLAR 
DICTIONARY  for  $2.45 

The  Original  Webster^s  Unabridged  Dictionary 
Thoroughly  Revised  and  Greatly  Enlarged  and  Improved 


By  CHAUNCEY  A.  GOODRICH,  D.  D.,  and  NOAH  PORTER,  D.  D..  L.  D. 


flTH  an  Appendix  of 
useful  tables  and  a 
supplement  of  more  than 
5,000  words,  including  the 
newest  inventions,  as: 
* 'wireless  telegraphy,"  etc. 

Classified  selection  of 
pictorial  illustrations;  popu- 
lation statistics;  ancient 
alphabets. 

Over  1,750  pages;  weight 
nine  pounds. 

3,000  illustrations. 

Handsomely  bound  in 
sheep;  marble  edge;  thumb 
index;  printed  on  god 
paper  in  clear  type. 


The  Very  Best  and  Up-to-Date  on  the  Market 
for  the  Money 


ALSO,  ALL  KINDS  OF  POCKET  DICTIONARIES 


Sold  by  RHODES  &  McCLURE  PUBL,  CO. 

296  WABASH  AVENUE,  CHICAGO,  ILL. 


